The Way of Go
by VKempf
Summary: Some try to control the forces of the universe. Others choose the way of Go... Chap.10: what makes the true value of a friend? More importantly, what kind of tattoo Hikaru would wear? Which manga Akira should read?
1. A Game under the Moon

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**1. Prologue: A Game under the Moon**

* * *

This autumn was still balmy in its middle. The leaves on the trees displayed an enchanting palette of green, gold and crimson under the setting sun. The breeze at the end of the afternoon was pleasantly warm, gently lifting the young courtier's long black hair. Leaving the sedan chair behind, he strode firmly toward the estate gate.

He paused before the entrance, whose heavy wooden gates were slightly ajar. But as he stepped forward, they opened widely as if he was awaited and watched from the inside. Yet nobody was to be seen around, giving the most disturbing impression that the gates were moving by themselves.

The young man didn't want to dwell on this, so he crossed the beautiful garden as quickly as his dignity allowed him. A short flight of steps led to the veranda in front of the main building. The place was empty, all the screen doors shut behind, making him think he was not welcome. That could not be though, since somebody had let him in the courtyard.

"_Ano_..." he tried shyly.

Two screens slid open on the right and on the left. Four servants scurried out, carrying a tea table, cushions and trays they put down under the eaves. They completely ignored their startled visitor until they got everything set. Then they turned to him, bowed deeply and ran back into the house.

Soon after that, a man came out at a much less nimble pace. He wore the same white over-robe and black _eboshi_ his guest had himself, but his dark red robe underneath revealed his high rank in the Heian Court. His features, despite the deep furrows in his brow, remained distinguished and well-shaped like a Buddha's face, with a thin and short white beard. The man looked very old, and he was indeed, but his eyes kept a vivid, almost frightening gleam that only an eerie smile softened. The young noble recognized him instantly as the person he wanted to meet.

"Seimei-_sama_..." he said, a bit overwhelmed.

"Sai-_sensei_... What an unexpected yet pleasant surprise!"

The man named Sai bowed, wondering by himself to what extent his visit was "unexpected". It wasn't time to forget his manners though.

"Please forgive my rude intrusion, Seimei-_sama_. I would be sorry if my coming had to annoy you or disturb your noble duties, but I had to talk to you. I shall not stay long..."

"You do not annoy me, _sensei_. At least... not yet," Seimei smiled. "I hope you will stay long enough to sit here with me and share a cup or two," he added, pointing invitingly to the cushions.

Sai bowed again.

"It is a great honour for me to sit under your roof, Seimei-_sama_, although I have not come to impose on your kind hospitality."

Seimei laughed.

"I am aware most of my visitors do not come just to drink _sake_! It makes me feel sad sometimes, it means I have lost too many friends through the years... Please, sit down! This is the first time we meet in private, isn't it? So let us enjoy this moment."

They knelt by either side of the table, while a servant was pouring two small dishes with warm _sake_. They savoured the strong drink, exchanging informal comments about the serenity of this evening and the upcoming splendour of the full moon.

"So, what brings His Majesty's Go master in my unworthy yard?" Seimei eventually asked.

Sai blushed.

"I wondered a lot whether I should come or not, but my heart is in such trouble that I need advice from one of the wisest in the City."

The old man looked at the young one with interest.

"Your... hesitation to come and see me, has it to do with the little faith you put in my science?"

Sai gulped. Truly he had wondered what good consulting a fortune teller, even a highly renowned one, could bring to his case. He remembered muttering something about it to himself as his chair was crossing the bridge over the nearby river, but there was no way he could have been overheard in that place...

Yet he was facing the great Abe no Seimei, the most skilled master in the way of _On-Myo_, the two opposite principles bringing forth the universe - the Chinese call them _Yin-Yang_. Above him were only the Emperor, the Chancellor and the Great Ministers of the Left and the Right. Below him was an army of dedicated _onmyoji_: astrologers, fortune tellers and exorcists who worked day and night to counsel and protect the Emperor, the Capital and its inhabitants from every form of evil or misfortune. If half the stories going around about his powers and his numerous feats were true - as well as the rumour that Seimei's mother wasn't human, the young noble had better not try to fool him.

"Well..." Sai said cautiously. "I do not claim to be learned in everything. Out of my own art, I must confess my ignorance about many domains. _Onmyodo_ is one of those."

Seimei nodded appreciatively.

"A tactful answer. Your scepticism is not necessarily to be blamed. Actually, it is rather refreshing to meet people clever enough not to swallow every tale or rumour. But I hope you do not deny what happens just before your own eyes?"

Sai shuddered. Was he referring to the self-opening gates? His words were so laden with innuendoes that the young Go master began to think Seimei was able to read his mind like in an open book. But a part of him didn't want to back down against the fortune teller.

"I do have good eyes, but there are powerful illusions..." he said.

Seimei clapped.

"Now, that answer is a bit less tactful, but pretty wise. You really have a good basis for a potential disciple, if I had to take one now. But since you have already chosen your way..." and he poured another round of _sake_ for both of them.

Sai sighed inwardly. He had still to get used to Seimei's knack for tricking his guests. The Head Onmyoji put down his dish and resumed their conversation.

"Though I do not know you well, I have heard about you: you are not the kind of man who has much to do with fortune tellers. Indeed your trouble must be great to make you come all this way and beg my counsel. Will you tell me?"

Sai took a good breath before speaking.

"Tomorrow is the game that decides who the Emperor will keep as his only Go tutor, you may have heard tell of it."

"Oh yes, yes!" Seimei said, lifting his folded fan against his lips in a thoughtful way. "One of my assistants was in charge of fixing the appropriate day and hour. I do not remember his sensing anything fateful though, he would have told me otherwise. Apart from the game itself, I do not see any reason for your heart to lie in trouble..."

He cast a sidelong glance at the Go master.

"I hope you have not come to hear me foretell your opponent's hands?"

The way Sai glared at him, Seimei could think he had just dropped an obscenity. When the young Go master spoke again, his voice was firm, even imperious.

"There is no way I would ask you such a thing, Seimei-_sama_. Even if you were able to do that - which I doubt, it would be completely useless."

"Oh, really?" Seimei said, a bit startled by this sudden remark.

"Absolutely. My opponent is not blind to the point he would miss the way I would play to counter his foreseen hands: he would change his whole strategy accordingly," Sai retorted.

"That is true..." Seimei admitted, "but... maybe you could take advantage of this knowledge, let your opponent deploy his strategy, and wait for the proper time to break it with an unexpected one of your own."

Sai answered in the measured tone he used whenever a novice voiced a naive comment across the goban.

"Each of my hands has consequences on my opponent's, and each of his hands has repercussions on mine. The hand I would play, knowing his next, would not be for sure the same I would choose if I was unaware of it. So how to be sure the stone I put on the goban is set on the place that will prompt the expected answer?"

"With your experience, knowing yourself and your opponent, you should easily deduce the most likely solution..." Seimei said.

"This is where you are completely mistaken," Sai cut. He was getting animated. "Some sequences may be predictable, but the possibilities for each hand are much too numerous. You can find a multitude of games beginning the same way, but you cannot find two of them following the exact same path, unless the players have purposely replayed a previous game..."

"Always changing, like the universe..." Seimei murmured.

"Verily this is the depth, the richness and the beauty of Go!" Sai exulted.

Only then he remembered where he was and who he was speaking to. He flushed and began to falter out some apologies behind his fan, but Seimei looked more interested than offended. Actually he was delighted by their conversation.

"So you say... Indeed I would like to see that beauty myself," he said keenly.

On a sign of his, a servant came, carrying a finely wrought goban with a pair of bowls cut in the same scented wood. Other servants were bringing some delicacies on large plates.

"Would _sensei_ do an ignorant old man the honour?" Seimei asked with a graceful nod.

Sai was not in position to refuse, and he did not want to anyway.

"The honour is mine, Seimei-_sama_. Though teaching his Majesty is undoubtedly the greatest honour of all, sharing my humble knowledge with so wise a master will be a very rewarding task."

The old man chuckled.

"Do not be too sure of that before you see what kind of player I am !"

He put a shrivelled hand in each bowl, slowly stirring the stones.

"This goban and its stones are a present from Mikushige-_dono_. Unlike me, she is very fond of the game. She wished I developed a taste for it, but I am afraid I have given her little satisfaction on this point..."

"Lady Mikushige is a very dedicated student. She may still lack in strength, but one cannot deny her passion, and playing her is always a pleasure," Sai said.

"Certainly, her passion has to do with the excellence of her young and brilliant tutor!" Seimei winked. "Well, let us see if you can succeed where she has failed."

"Before we begin, Seimei-_sama_, I want to be sure I am not disturbing any of your plans for this evening..." a slightly blushing Sai asked.

Seimei waved his fear aside.

"You are not disturbing and in no way annoying anyone here, _sensei_, I can tell you now. My plans for the night were mainly to stare at this magnificent moon and doze off quietly under it. Both can wait. Please make yourself comfortable and taste these..." He pushed forward a plate and helped himself in the same time. "Your servants outside are already taken care of."

Sai bowed. "Thank you for your gracious consideration."

He sighed inwardly in relief. All in all, things were turning well.  
The evening was beautiful, the cooking was delicious, Abe no Seimei was not as scary as people told, and most of all they were going to play Go. Back to his familiar turf, he would be free of any kind of embarrassment for the next hour or more. Or so he thought.

"Now, _sensei_, how many stones do you think I should put down?"

* * *

That was the strangest game Sai ever played, by many aspects.

Seimei's personality was not the least one. In his short but already rich career, Sai had known many opponents with various dispositions, but never he had met someone so exuberant.  
At first, Seimei used to ponder on each and every of his hand, expressing loudly his thoughts and asking him for advice: "Do you think I can play this? Maybe I should protect these stones instead?"  
Sai's answer was always the same: "Do not think too long, just play."

After a bit more equivocation, Seimei played, and Sai responded, bringing detailed explanations: "You may certainly put this stone there; what matters is how the next stones will relate to it. If you keep fighting for this group, you remain oblivious to decisive stones I can place elsewhere - here for instance, so you may assure black a short victory on this corner while letting white reign over the rest of the board."  
Seimei was staring at the patterns on the goban for a while, studying their intricacies, before agreeing to Sai's comments with some of his own: "One event, one being alone may not be important by itself, but its bonds with others can have strong consequences." Or: "You cannot evaluate, even less influence a given position without taking a wider view and considering it in its context."

Sai wondered about the purpose of these rather obvious sentences. It took him some time before he realized that the Master was establishing connections between the game and his own experience. Sai had little clue of the latter and he felt a strong curiosity growing.

He had almost forgotten his partner's mischievous side, but was quickly reminded of it when he noticed quite alarmingly that half the stones on the board had suddenly swapped colours, displaying a whole new design. He glanced at Seimei, who was very busy hiding a grin behind his fan while pretending to be engrossed by the game.

Onmyoji _are truly masters of illusions_, Sai thought, slowly recovering from the shock. _Well, I am still the master of the game..._

The stones might look different to his eyes, but not to his memory. Raising his fan before his own smile, he purposely placed a white next to another one, seemingly connecting, actually capturing a black, which he removed and dropped among its unfortunate siblings.

Seimei raised an eyebrow.

"Are you allowed to capture your own stone, _sensei_?" he asked disingenuously.

"I beg to differ, Seimei-_sama_, that was not my stone, but yours." Sai fetched again the last prisoner. "This," he said, raising the pearly white stone delicately, "is black. And so is this one, and this one, and this one..." he added, pointing successively to every black stone hiding in a snowy coat.   
"Of course, if your preference inclines to a different arrangement, I can adapt my strategy to suit your visual taste," he concluded in a submissive tone, which a predatory gleam in his eyes belied.

He was pretty satisfied with Seimei's bewildered look. But the _onmyoji_ promptly acknowledged the total misfiring of his deception, and he burst into a long laugh.

"Excellent! Really, no cheater - even the cleverest one - does stand a chance against you!"

He waved his right hand still holding a stone, and the colours on the goban went back to normal, making Sai blink in surprise.

"I wish most of my disciples were half as bright..." Seimei sighed.

They ended their game without any other incident. Sai won by a wide margin, but since it was just _shidougo_, he reviewed the main stages of the game with his partner, stressing every crucial hand.  
After the young master finished talking, Seimei remained silent for a while .

"There is something I must confess, _sensei_," he finally said. "All my life, I have always considered Go as a pleasant but useless pastime. Truly I used to look down on the passion so many people in this Court put in it, the warrior like the monk, the noble like the priest..."

He took a thoughtful sip of sake, then huffed.

"How many of them have the littlest idea of the meaning of this board, of the truth hidden under these stones? They use them to pit their conceited self against others', only to promote their way up in Court. Even the most talented of them, would you call them bright because they know how to embrace more void than any other?"

He raised a hand, stopping Sai's attempt to speak.

"The so-called master you are facing tomorrow, when confronted to the same illusion I tried on you sooner, was unable to do better than knock over this _go-ke_ and leave in rage!"

His voice softened.

"You, _sensei_, are different... You are not conceited. You are proud, of course, very proud of your art, but you do not use it to enhance your own prominence. You care about the person you teach. You never lose patience, even with an obnoxious player like me. I thought Go players only see the surface of the board, but your comments of our game proved me wrong. You definitely look beyond, though still confusingly, and when I offered to initiate you, I was not speaking lightly. Anyway, if someone deserves to be Mikado's Go tutor, no doubt you are the one."

Sai bowed deeply.

"Seimei-_sama_, the honour you do me is beyond any word. I feel so unworthy of..."

"You should not," Seimei cut. "Rare are they who can tell they have taught something to this old fox! This definitely must be rewarded. How can I-"

He stopped, struck by a sudden thought.

"How selfish I am! You come in worry to beg advice, and I bother you with my ill-timed request for a demonstration..."

"You do not bother me, Seimei-_sama_, and certainly not by asking me a game!" Sai assured. "As a matter of fact, I feel in a quieter mood now, thanks to it."

The old master smiled.

"All the better, then. So what troubled you so much if it was not for the impending duel?"

Sai closed his eyes. His worries were slowly coming back.

"I will not deny I dread this game, Seimei-_sama_. It is not a question of self-doubt; I know my rival's ability and does not fear it. Yet... I am afraid. And the most frightening is I have no clear idea of what I must fear."

"You must feel uncertainty about the future, which is very common," Seimei replied. "The best thing to do is to face it straightforwardly."

_More easily said than done_, Sai thought.

"I... I have tried to..."

Seimei leaned toward Sai.

"The problem, when you are thinking on your own, is that you often miss options... Whether you did not think of them, or you _refused_ to consider them. A friend's advice is very opportune in such cases. I can be this friend, if you want..."

"Please..." Sai whispered.

The old man straightened up with a satisfied smile.

"Luckily, in your case, the options are very simple: you win or you lose."

Sai nodded.

"If you win, you stay in your position of imperial Go tutor, and you hold it alone. If you lose..."

"If I lose..." Sai shuddered.

"Well, you certainly lose things along... Your position, of course; some consideration, probably - though I will always hold you in the highest esteem," Seimei said with a smile. Sai answered with a grateful bow.  
"All in all, a loss does not necessarily mean a disgrace. You remain a highly talented player, if not the best, and surely you will find people eager to learn from you."

Sai felt rather stupid, like a child afraid of the dark crying for an elder to comfort him. But the anxiety was still there, and it was actually growing, so it was better to spill his heart while he could.

"The things you said I have repeated myself, Seimei-_sama_. They are indeed reasonable, but... reason alone cannot tame this fear."

Seimei noticed that Sai's fright was not pretended. The night had come, lighted by a beaming full moon, the air was still and warm, but the Go master was shivering, though he tried his best to hide it.

"So... Have you seen ominous signs lately? Have you premonitory dreams?" Seimei asked.

Sai shook his head.

"I cannot tell for sure. I do not sleep very well these days, but I am unable to remember any dream when I wake up. As for the signs... I cannot tell either."

_I really do sound stupid_, Sai lamented inwardly.

But the old master didn't mock him. He just waved a hand, and the servants came to clear the dishes and put the goban aside. Another one was bringing a low table with mysterious objects on it. The most peculiar of them was a heavy square slab of black stone topped by a rotating hemisphere of the same matter, etched with characters and small white dots Sai guessed to be constellations.

"No wonder you cannot tell, if you usually shut yourself off from these things... Fortunately, I can help you on this."

* * *

_(continued in next chapter)_

**NOTES:**

_Eboshi_: the black headgear worn by noble men (and Sai!).

_Onmyodo(u)_: "the way of Yin-Yang". This set of beliefs and practices, based on religious Taoism imported from China, developed early in Japan. It became soon as firmly established as Buddhism or Shinto, and a whole department in the Heian administration was dedicated to it. _Onmyodo_ covered a wide range of subjects from divination and astrology to medicine, magic rituals and exorcism of evil beings. People would use it frequently to work out the most opportune (or inopportune) time for an event, ceremony or enterprise to take place.

_Onmyoji_: a Yin-Yang master.

_Abe no Seimei_ (921-1005): one of the most famous _onmyoji_, born in Abeno-ku - near Osaka. Though a historical figure, most of his life is steeped in legend, about which you can read in ancient texts like _Konjaku Monogatari_ ("Tales of Past and Present"). His adventures have been recently popularized by novels, manga, anime/live series, and a couple of movies. You can watch for instance Yojiro Takita's _Onmyoji_ movie, which shows a pretty good sight of the Heian Capital - all the magic and sfx put aside. For a more iconoclastic view, just try Gainax's hilarious _Abenobashi Maho Shotengai_!

_Go-ke_: a bowl of Go stones (but you knew this one, of course!)


	2. A Spell on the Future

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**2. Prologue: A Spell on the Future**

* * *

A smile was flickering around Abe no Seimei's mouth, as he felt scrutinized by the young Go master, who had already taken a long curious look at his tools. Other people would just lower their head and wait patiently for the _onmyoji_'s statement, but his current guest was watching carefully every of his moves.

_Is it an habit he got from playing?_ Seimei wondered. _He really would have made a good disciple. Maybe it is not too late..._

Thanks to his powers, Seimei had managed to reach the canonical age of eighty in a rather good shape, another feat to his credit. Of course, his body was not as nimble as it used to be, but his mind was, and that was really all he needed. He could easily live on a few years more, just for the pleasure of teaching a dedicated student. But would Sai be really dedicated, and a student to begin with? He was young but already a master in his own way...

Seimei put aside these plans to concentrate on Sai's birth chart. What appeared quickly under his eyes was an exceptional configuration, something he hadn't seen many times in his life.

"Brilliant..." he whispered, beaming. Sai was not just gifted or talented: he was born a pure genius, a blinding star who had still some growth ahead.

But the present days were his matter of concern. Seimei turned to his _chyokuban_ and held out his right hand above the starry hemisphere. After a few seconds of concentration, it began to spin slowly, according to his will. Another fascinating subject for his curious guest, but this time Seimei was too busy to relish the sight of Sai's amazement. Silently, the plates were moving to match the current configuration of the stars, planets, elements and gods, and in the end combine with Sai's birth pattern.

Seimei's face remained impassive, but his usual smile had somehow frozen on his lips. He didn't like at all the configuration forming under his hand. He had already seen similar ones regarding known Heian dignitaries - even the highest of them. All of these people were not to be found in the land of living anymore. He cast a quick look at the young man, who seized this glance to venture a question.

"May I ask... do you see anything?"

"An oracle is needed." Seimei replied in a tone as neutral as possible.

The _onmyoji_ began with a series of ritual hand gestures to seal himself off from any external influence. Then, lifting the lid of an oblong lacquered case, he grabbed a handful of thin yarrow stalks in his left hand. His eyes shut, he concentrated on the question for which he was seeking an answer. When he had it clearly in his mind, he began dividing the handful into bundles, following the complex counting of the stalks to cast the first line of the oracle. He ended up with eight, which meant a young _On_. With a thin stylus, he drew a broken line on a small sand tablet. He repeated the process five times, counting and drawing, while Sai was watching, fascinated, the dance of the stalks. When the whole hexagram was formed, the tablet displayed five _On_ under a single _Myo_.

Seimei let out a deep sigh, not of relief, but hopeless resignation.  
The star would never reach its full size. His days were short, very short. _They are numbered_, had whispered other stars on the black stone. When Seimei had asked what could be done about that, the oracle had replied with the twenty-third figure:

_Splitting Apart.  
It does not further one  
To go anywhere. _

And in addition to the judgement:

_The bed is split at the edge.  
Those who persevere are destroyed..._.

The night was clear under the full moon. The garden was very quiet, save for a few hoots and squeaks under the trees. Sai was waiting nervously for the Onmyo Master to speak, but Seimei's head was still lowered, considering the stalks.

_If only he had come sooner, while his destiny was still written with chalk! Maybe I could have helped him. Now it is written with red ink, it cannot be diverted. Shall I talk to him ? _Seimei wondered.

Telling bad news, even the worst ones, had always been an unavoidable part of his duties. Not so long ago, he had foretold an emperor's death, which was proven true - as always. He had never hidden the truth to anyone, as harsh as it was for the concerned people. Why this hesitation now? Sai had the right to know and prepare bravely for his fate. But even the brazen Seimei found it too cruel to the poor Go master.

_Tomorrow is an important game for him, there is no need to ruin it now. Yet I must tell him something of the truth..._

The old man allowed himself a good breath before raising his head and looking at Sai.

"Your fears, _sensei_, are well founded," Seimei said quietly. "You are a hindrance for someone's ambition; therefore you must be... pushed aside."

Sai shivered.

"Someone... You mean... my rival?"

"Though this oracle usually tells about lower people, it is very likely."

Sai frowned.

"How can I be a hindrance for him? _Tennou-sama _has always treated us equally. What can he gain from being his only Go tutor? That does not entitle him to more power or wealth."

Seimei smiled sadly.

"Some people just cannot make do with what they have. You say the emperor treats you both equally, maybe your rival does not share your view. Or maybe he envies you something else. The so-called City of Peace runs on an awful mix of ambitions and jealousies wrestling like snakes in a basket; even a young courtier like you should be aware of that..."

"I know but... who would envy a simple tutor position? Especially when he already holds one..."

There was bitterness in Sai's voice, and Seimei could not imagine that the so brilliant master was just discovering the real world. He didn't let himself lose his patience though.

"Maybe your enemy has other plans for the future. Maybe he is not even jealous. Maybe he just... hates."

"Hates ?" Sai seemed totally lost, and this time Seimei let out a bit of annoyance in his reply.

"Why not? You belong to an important and powerful family, _Fujiwara_ _no Sai_," Seimei said, ironically stressing the name. "So important and powerful, and for so long now that fear and hate have arisen among many in the Court. I do not speak for myself, of course," he added. "All those little plots and political schemes have always left me cold, all the more now."

"I am hardly related to our regent or any of the great ministers," Sai pouted. "Besides, power does not interest me, I just want to play and teach Go."

Seimei shook his head.

"That is precisely what makes you an obvious target. Many courtiers yearn to see the present regency overthrown, but Crafty Michinaga is not a piece you remove overnight. So they would rather go for an easier prey."

He gave Sai a commiserating half-smile.

"You do not lack cleverness, _sensei_ - you have proved it brightly. You even allow yourself to cultivate a bold scepticism on matters other people just take for granted. Yet you remain way too trusting, and the same people are able to use it to their own advantage. Please do not take it badly, but you should apply your fighting skills outside of the goban too. "

Sai hid his clenched teeth behind his fan. To be considered a naive person by a famously cunning one wasn't very pleasant, but he knew in himself Seimei was right. When he spoke again, he sounded resolute:

"Thank you, Seimei-_sama_. I will not let anyone push me aside easily. And tomorrow, the game will be mine."

"Good," Seimei nodded. _At least, those last days of yours will be lived in honour_.

"Only..." Sai began, but he didn't speak further.

"Is there something else you would like to know?" Seimei asked.

"I would like to be sure... Is there any chance I must leave Heiankyo in the future?" Sai said, his voice quavering.

Seimei allowed himself a moment of thinking.

"The oracle does not tell such a thing, though it is not to exclude," he said. "Of course, for a courtier, exile from the Capital is a hard situation."

"It would be a disaster for me, since nobody is allowed to play Go outside of the Court," Sai lamented.

Seimei looked at Sai with a bit of pity. Considering the kind of exile the Go master was going to face, he would not be able to play much anyway.

"I reckon it is a shame for a Go master not to be allowed to touch a goban, but as long as you are living, you still have options open to you."

_So take advantage of them while you can._

"But Go is my life!" Sai exclaimed in despair. "If I cannot play, I cannot live!"

Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. Seimei looked shocked.

"Please, _sensei_, mind your words! They can have consequences you barely imagine!" he said gravely.

Sai gulped.

"I am sorry, Seimei-_sama_, but life without the game would lose all of its meaning, all of its taste. Maybe you do not understand it, but it is the way I feel."

"If you say so..." Seimei replied pensively.

Things were getting complicated. Not only was Sai going to die, but there was a serious risk he would not find peace in death because of his obsession.

_He may become one of those poor shadows we must chase out, or worse!_

As an answer to his grim thoughts, a long, sudden hoot shattered the silence of the night. Seimei looked up toward the cherry tree standing not far behind them in the garden. On the lowest branch was perching an owl, whose white feathers glowed eerily under the moon. Its golden eyes were turned straight toward the young Go master, who hadn't reacted, lost in his own turmoil.

"So..." Seimei whispered.

All the omens for Sai's future tallied: the Go master would die soon and wander in despair for...

_A thousand years! You must have seriously offended the gods, Fujiwara no Sai! _Seimei thought bitterly.

He couldn't imagine how, but guessed it had something to do with Sai's passion.

"How come you are so entrenched in Igo, _sensei_? You showed me the beauty of your art, but is it enough of a reason to sacrifice everything for it? What makes it so important to you?"

Sai's violet eyes gleamed.

"What makes the game so important, Seimei-_sama_, is the underlying perfection that hides in it," he explained in a passionate tone. "It is usually sensed only by advanced players, but surely you must have a certain idea of it, since you told me about the truth under the stones."

"Hmm... I was merely talking about the symbolic meaning of the goban. In days of yore, it was even used for our science, before we changed for more practical devices," Seimei said, nodding to his _chyokuban_.

"So you have never heard of the _Kami no itte_?" Sai asked, disappointed.

"_Kami no itte_?" Seimei repeated curiously. "Mikushige-dono may have mentioned it once, but I do not remember well. What is it exactly?"

If Sai had not been the exquisitely distinguished noble man he was, he would have snorted. He covered his mouth with his fan instead.

"If I could answer that, my career would be achieved and my life complete. I just caught glimpses of it in a very few games, against very strong opponents."

"So this... 'divine hand' is to be found through the game?" Seimei asked.

"Yes. That is why my position in Court is crucial, for it allows me to play games of a very high level, whenever I have the chance of meeting strong players. Though it does not happen too often," Sai complained. "Living outside the Capital, I would have even less opportunities to play with them."

Seimei closed his eyes. A part of him burned against the Go master.

_Why not leave the Capital already, and look yourself for these strong players, instead of waiting lamely for them to come to you? You should even cross the sea to meet old masters in China, while you are young and full of resources!_

But even geniuses had their limitations, Seimei thought right afterwards. His own eccentricity was tolerated in the Court because of his fame - and his dreadful powers, but a man like Sai, who had grown in perfect obedience and respect of the authority, would have a harder time freeing himself from the social constraints. Since Sai was not going to live, blaming him was useless.

Seimei closed his fist on the handle of his fan. A better idea had just formed in his head.

"Have you ever thought of who would be the ideal partner in your quest for the... _Kami no itte_?" Seimei asked.

Sai looked surprised.

"... not really. I need strong opponents, for sure," he said.

"Like the one you face tomorrow?" Seimei asked.

Sai's face hardened.

"I do not think so," he said bitterly. "There is no doubt he is strong, but as far as he is concerned, the game is a means, not an end."

"Obviously he is not worthy of this quest," Seimei concluded. "Do you see any other candidate among those you have already played with? A foreign master passing through the City, maybe? Even a promising disciple?"

Sai racked his brain to remember his opponents in the best games he had ever played. He brought out a few names, but couldn't single one out . Each of them had shown him very good sequences - in which he had found the glimpses of perfection he was talking about, but none seemed as passionate and dedicated as he was himself.

As Sai remained silent, Seimei smiled.

"You are a dedicated teacher, but you actually look more interested in what lies on the goban than who sits across it, am I wrong, _sensei_?"

"I... What do you mean?" Sai stammered.

_You are selfish_, Seimei thought. _Just like I was in my youth, thinking I needed no one else. Life proved me wrong. Unfortunately, life you do not have much left, and I cannot help it. But since it looks like you will have plenty of afterlife, something should be done nevertheless._

"As you pointed out, the opportunities of advantageous meetings in life are scarce, so it is important not to miss them," Seimei explained. "You miss them if you do not pay enough attention to others, just getting a hazy measure from the first impression. When you get to know one better, sometimes you find precious qualities you had no idea of on the first meeting."

Sai didn't appreciate much being lectured again, but showing his irritation was out of question: it would just make him look more immature than Seimei's statement implied, especially since Seimei was right. His answer had to be composed, just like in the game.

"I see... but you must admit it would take more of a lifetime to know each and everyone around," he said.

"Alas," Seimei sighed.

"Then, what about your science, Seimei-_sama_?" Sai went on. "Does it let you know who in the world deserves to be known?"

Seimei shook his head.

_Your rival may consider the game as just a means to achieve his ambition, but the same applies to you, sensei, only the means in your case is not the game, but your opponent._

He could clearly perceive Sai's pride, and in other circumstances, he would have told him straight and loud his home truths. But he didn't want the Go master to leave before he had found a way to help him.

"Part of my business is to tell, in the Way of all events, what is fortunate from what is not," he said. "Thus you can catch good fortune when it passes by, and avoid disasters, or at least lessen their impact. But you cannot spend your time trying to foresee the future: doing so would mean not living your own life."

Sai was listening attentively.

"Avoid disasters..." he repeated thoughtfully. "The science that allows you to foresee a man plotting against another, can it be used to thwart his plans?"

"Sometimes it can be done... but not in your case," Seimei replied. "I have already saved men cursed by the will of a jealous rival, but when the curse lies in destiny itself, I am almost powerless. Although we have some limited influence on events, the very Way cannot be diverted. Those who try do so at considerable cost, and usually fail. That is why I cannot guarantee you will keep your position, nor that you will find the _Kami no itte_."

Sai nodded.

"I understand, Seimei-_sama_. I had no intention to ask you that anyway."

"Good. But that was not my point when I was asking about the ideal opponent. To make things clearer..." Seimei waved his hand toward the goban:  
"In a game, what is the basic answer to a _nozoki_?"

"Connection," Sai replied at once, though taken aback by the question.

"Right. Two loners lost in the flow of the game are joined and make a string that cannot be cut. By doing so, they yield a degree of freedom to the group, but together they face the following hands in a stronger position."

Sai could already see what the old man was driving at, but he let him finish his speech.

"People facing the common setbacks of life tend to connect to other people who share the same interests. Most of the time, such bonds are quite loose, for they only result from the circumstances. Some can get really firm though. The firmer the bond is, the less free each part gets, but the stronger they are together, sharing success like injuries. Then they can stand up to the flow of events, and sometimes... change it."

Seimei's eyes sparkled as he remembered memories of his.

"Provided of course each one in the group has chosen the right friends," Sai replied grimly.

"You are right," Seimei said. "If we could watch our life like we take in the whole surface of the game, we would know instantly which people to connect with. No player does these moves in our stead, so we are left to our own devices. Yet," he added in a confiding tone, "such is the Way that the paths of people who need to meet are naturally driven to cross each other in the long term."

Sai gulped.

"You mean... there is someone somewhere who, like me, seeks the _Kami no itte_, and both of us are destined to meet any day?"

Seimei smiled.

"Absolutely. Though this move can stretch over a very long time, more than a lifetime in some cases. But it goes on relentlessly, _beyond space, time or death_. So if you do not meet your peer in this life, you may find him in the next." _  
Or in between..._

Sai took a comforting gaze at the familiar shape of the goban.

"So I just have to wait with hope," he said simply.

"I said we cannot go against the Way, but we can... support it, and make your wait shorter," Seimei winked.

"Really?" Sai said, his face lighting up.

"Certainly. Let me think about it."

He closed his eyes to muse over his plan. Sai didn't really figure out what was going on, but he waited patiently.

Seimei opened his eyes again after a while. At once, one servant came with a writing case he put down at Seimei's right side. Only this time, Sai realized - to his utter amazement - that the _onmyoji_ never voiced any order to his servants: they just came and did the right thing at the right time.

Seimei took notice of Sai's reaction.

"_Shikigami_," he explained, pointing to the withdrawing shadow. "More reliable than any human servant - as long as you keep them under control."

Sai shuddered.

Seimei picked a small brush from the writing case and held out his free hand toward Sai.

"May I have your fan for a moment, _sensei_?"

Sai remained unmoving for seconds. Such a request was quite unusual: a fan was a personal object for a noble man or woman to hide unsuitable emotions, in accordance with the Court etiquette. Asking for it was on the verge of rudeness. But Sai found no serious reason Seimei would want to insult him at this point of their meeting, so he closed his fan and held it to the _onmyoji_ with noticeable reluctance.

Seimei took it and delicately opened it out. It was a simple, unadorned yet elegant fan of ivory oilpaper, the one Sai used outside of ceremonial occasions.

"A fan," Seimei said, "is a very handy item. In its folds we keep nice and useful secrets: the words of a wise man, a beautiful song, a poem by the loved one. What we need here, though, is a spell... a spell on the future."

Seimei took a good look at the blank surface, visualizing what he was going to write on it. When he had his mind made up, he plunged the brush into the inkwell. Sai held his breath while his fan was getting covered with thin characters, along with unknown symbols on the sides. Despite Seimei's age, his hand was moving in a steady pace. In the same time, his lips were muttering mysterious words Sai didn't even try to understand. When the old master had finished, he slowly waved the fan to dry the black ink off. At last, he gave it back to its owner.

"Can you read it?"

Sai looked at his fan. The strange drawings on the side excepted, Seimei's calligraphy was perfectly readable.

"I can, but... what does it mean exactly?"

"Nothing but your wish... in appropriate words," Seimei said. "Every time you voice them, you actually call your peers, begging their paths to cross yours soon. You can even sing it if you like, you will remember it more easily."

Indeed, as he was muttering the words of the spell, Sai discovered somewhat of a rhythm in their arrangement, a music he found strangely comforting.

"It sounds like a good song in my ears," he said, smiling. "I will take it as a beautiful and fortunate wish for the grim days to come."

"It is much more than that!" Seimei cut sternly. "When you speak it, even the most indifferent gods are _forced_ to hear your prayer. Remember this, _sensei_: the key to your life achievement may lie in this wish you take so lightly. This is the best I can do for you now, so you had better follow my advice and memorize these words quickly."

Sai blushed like a foolish schoolboy admonished by his tutor.

"I... I will remember it, Seimei-_sama_," he mumbled. "And be assured I will find a way to reward you greatly for your kindness." he added with a deep bow.

Seimei smiled sadly.

"Never mind that, you have no time. Tomorrow's game is your priority now. If you want to do me a favour, just sing this spell as often as possible from now, and my heart will feel lighter."

"I promise, Seimei-sama," Sai said firmly. "Thank you for everything."

"Good. In return I promise I will play Go more often," Seimei replied with a wink. _In memory of you, sensei._

Sai bowed gracefully.

"I will be deeply honoured to stand as your unworthy opponent, every time you wish."

* * *

In the sedan chair on his way home, Sai was wondering about his interview with Seimei. He had come to him with no defined purpose but to off-load somewhat of his anguish. He was going back with even more questions, and a few lines on his fan.

He drew back the front curtain to let the moonlight in. Holding his fan spread under it, he read again the strange verses Seimei had written as a "spell".

_It still makes little sense. How is it supposed to make my righteous partner come out of nowhere? _

Outside Seimei's presence, even the most peculiar events of this night seemed to fade into irrelevance like those of a dream. He thought again about the _onmyoji_ and his oracle.

_I cannot deny he is an interesting person. But all he has told me is I have an ambitious rival and I should find someone worthier; all things I already know. Perhaps he is just a great illusionist who comforts people with smooth talk and bogus charms. Yet..._

Yet Sai couldn't definitely consider Seimei a fraud, partly because of the strong impression the old man had still made on him, and also because in his dread, he needed to cling to someone.

_Maybe that is precisely what allows this kind of people to thrive_, Sai mused grimly. After a while though, he decided he had enough of the inner conflict.

_That was not a bad meeting after all... If Seimei is a fraud, he is a pleasant one, and he really made me feel better. _

Staring at his fan, he cast a smile.

_As for his so-called spell, I see no harm in singing it. I like its rhythm, I can already think of a nice tune to go with it. I should try it on my _fue _sometime._

All the way to Sai's house, his servants could hear a soft humming from inside the chair.

* * *

Long after Sai had left, Abe no Seimei was still sitting in the veranda, staring at the vivid orb above. He had little hope the Go master would follow his advice. His fox side felt confirmed in his opinion that humans remained powerless puppets in the hands of fate, whatever talent, sign or help they were given in their lives. But the man in him grudgingly admitted that, always tempted to defy the gods and secretly wishing Sai's victory over the oracle.

He looked down on the sand tablet that still displayed the fateful hexagram.

"Oh yes, the second line is an old _On_, it is moving," he noticed. "Which gives us..."

With his stylus, he filled the gap in the broken line, changing it into a solid young _Myo_. The evolving figure of Sai's future was now the fourth:

_Youthful Folly has success.  
It is not I who seek the young fool  
The young fool seeks me..._

Seimei burst out laughing.

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**NOTES:**

_Ch(y)okuban_: a rotating diagram used to calculate relationships between stars, elements, gods... (don't ask me how!)

_Oracle_: the oracle used by Seimei is the famous I Ching (or Yi Jing), the Book of Changes. I won't detail here all the stuff about trigrams and hexagrams, how to cast and interpret them; if you want to know more, Wikipedia is your friend (yeah, I'm lazy). The excerpts used in this fic are taken from Robert Wilhelm's translation (all rights reserved...).

_Fujiwara_: the Fujiwara clan played a predominant role in the Heian era politics. Its members used to marry their daughters to the successive emperors, thus securing their own position in the Court, and actually ruling the state. Among them, Fujiwara no Michinaga (966 - 1027) was the most renowned, and though he refused a chancellor (_kanpaku_) position, he was the de facto ruler under several emperors (who had no real power but religious), until his retirement in 1017 AD. Thanks to his political skills, he managed to remain in power and exercise an effective administration.  
The Fujiwara were a large family, with many branches; I assume here Sai belongs to one of lesser importance.

_Nozoki_: a threat to cut (the English term is "peep").

_Shikigami_: a spirit familiar, taking human shape when summoned by a wizard to execute his orders.

_Fue_: wooden flute (there's a stunning color pic of Sai playing it in the artbook).

--

This ends the prologue of my new fic, hope it was not too tedious. I hadn't planned such a beginning at first, but after I watched _Onmyoji _(see notes in previous chapter), I thought I could write something interesting about Sai and Seimei. Since I hadn't involved Sai as an active character in my previous fics, it was the ideal opportunity for him to make an appearance in the flesh!

I've tried my best to make the background as accurate as possible, collecting material about the Heian period, I Ching, Chinese astrology, Go!... I can still fall wrong, and sometimes I must even take huge artistic license for things I really don't know (I couldn't find for instance what kind of tool people used in Heian Japan for ephemeral writing, so after watching _Hero_, I just made up the "sand tablet") So I beg your indulgence - every informative correction is welcome.

While we're at warnings:

The rest of the story takes place a few years after the end of the manga (the Hokuto Cup), so of course there'll be spoilers here and there.

Yes, there will be **Romance**! You'll have to be patient though... I won't give away the pairings, but don't expect slash ones, you'd be very disappointed. Though I plan some _intense_ relationship between our two favorite Go rivals, but no more in my mind than scraps of SATIN® (Shounen Ai That Is Not).

I've got quite the whole plot in mind, but since English is not my first language, I'll be slow at writing and updating, sorry. It's just a fanfiction, but I don't want to make a half-assed job of this. Corrections are welcome (email please), as well as your reviews, of course!

Valérien


	3. His First Opponent

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning: _spoilers everywhere!

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**3. His First Opponent**

* * *

He was found at last, sitting by the drinks machines, idly sipping his oolong tea while far below the Chuo-ku ward was sweltering in the summer heat. 

"Oh, Touya-kun! I thought you had left..."

Touya Akira raised his gaze to the middle-aged man in a grey suit who had just called him, then stood up as he recognized the supervisor.

"I was just taking a break, Ichiro-san."

"Why don't you go to the coffee-shop, Touya-kun? You know drinks are free for our special guests..."

"Well... I must have forgotten..." Akira stammered.

Actually, the young Go professional wanted some ten minutes of solitude, away from the Kansai Ki-in crowded halls. Ichiro nodded.

"You do as you like. Will you attend the closing ceremony?"

"Sure. Is it still at 7 PM?" Akira peeked at his watch. "I think I should go back soon to my _shidougo_ clients then."

"Oh, I guess most people are about to leave now. They've mainly come to see the junior pro games this afternoon. By the way, congratulations for your victory ! You did great against our teen champion."

"Thanks," Akira bowed quickly. "Yashiro-kun did great too, it was a very interesting game."

"Indeed!" Ichiro agreed strongly. "Such thrilling battles are just so many opportunities to give rise to new vocations, especially among the youth, which is the purpose of this special Summer Igo Festival. If our hopes are fulfilled, we'll certainly renew the experience next year."

"I hope so."

"Thank you. Can we count on you then?"

"Ah... er... It's a bit early to tell..."

Ichiro laughed.

"Of course! Sorry, it's already very kind of you to come specially here in Osaka for both days."

"It's a pleasure."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my guests. See you later."

With a last nod, Ichiro turned back and walked away to the main hall downstairs. Akira quickly swallowed his tea, threw away the empty can into a bin and went back to the playing room.

Sitting behind long rows of tables, pros from Kansai or guests like Akira were playing teaching Go with random visitors. Ichiro was right: the room was not as crowded as it was an hour ago. Some of the teaching pros had already left for the day, the others had at most two persons in line. Akira returned to his seat on the far left side and apologized to his only client, an old lady who nodded with an understanding smile.

Their game was quickly over. The lady hardly listened to Akira's comments, ranting on about how pleased she was to see serious young men like him playing Go at professional level, "because you know, today's youth is so slack, and so bad-mannered too, education is not what it used to be...", so much so that Akira couldn't tell whether he was praised for teaching Go or for being young. Eventually she left with a last volley of congratulations.

Akira sighed. Nobody was waiting next in line and the closing ceremony was not to start before half an hour. Looking around, he caught sight of a short guy nearby who was staring at him intently.

"If you want a lesson, I'm free right now," Akira bade with an inviting smile.

The other, smiling back, came and sat across from him. He was a small, plump boy with a round face and short hair, the same age as Akira, maybe a little younger.

"Instead of a lesson, I'd rather play a real game..," he said, hesitantly twitching his fingers.

"As you wish. What's your level ?"

The boy scratched the back of his head.

"Er... I'd sorta... like to know. Can we _nigiri_ ?"

Akira gave him a quizzical look.

"Why not? But we have only twenty minutes or something left, so this gonna be a quick game."

"No problem! I'm fine with speed Go!" the boy replied merrily.

Akira chuckled. As far as he knew, it would be his last game for the day, so he had nothing against a bit of fun.

"All right, _nigiri_ then."

They both put down a handful of stones on the board.

"... eight... ten... twelve," Akira counted, deftly sliding the stones of his bunch pair after pair. The other boy had left two stones on the board, therefore he was playing black.

"_Onegaishimas'_ !" he declared, full of spirit. Akira answered likewise, though not with the same exuberance.

The boy began on the lower right _hoshi_, Akira on the upper right one, and soon the hands were following one another at a fast pace, each player using fifteen seconds at most to think. After all the tension in his duel against Yashiro and the dull _shidougo_ sessions afterwards, Akira found it really refreshing. His current opponent was playing much better than he would have thought, and with an obvious delight, as if he had been deprived of the game for too long.

Akira was taking his part of the pleasure, to the point he deliberately ignored a mistake done by his partner, just to make the game last a bit more, something he would usually never do even against weaker opponents.  
He didn't push it too far though: the boy might notice and feel insulted. Besides, Akira once underestimated a kid his age and...  
But that was not going to happen again: beads of sweat were growing fast on the shorter boy's temples, despite the air conditioning. He kept struggling for a while, but finally shook his head.

"Naah, it's no good! _Arimasen_," he moaned, dropping his last stone back into the bowl.

"Thanks for the game," Akira said - and he meant it. "Do you want to review?"

"Oh, I know where it went bad! I've totally misread the situation in the middle of the game, and played wrongly from that point," the boy lamented. "Also that _tsuke_ there was too forceful, should have made a _nobi_ here instead, I saw it right afterwards. Strange you didn't take advantage of it..."

Akira winced. _He has noticed..._

"Well... you looked so eager to play - so I was, I didn't want to end the game too soon..."

While speaking, the young pro was watching for any sign of anger on the round face, but it seemed nothing could disturb the smile plastered on it.

"Thanks, you're too kind, _sensei_," the boy said with a wink, and maybe a tad of irony on the title.

Akira was considering the board.

"Yes, that _tsuke_ came too soon, and you lost ground in the middle, but the beginning was rather good. For an amateur, you're definitely no average player..."

The boy shrugged.

"Still no match to you. It's even worse than last time."

Akira gave him a curious look.

"You mean... We've already played a game before ?"

The boy grinned.

"Yup! Remember your pro exam prelims? I was your very first opponent! Hehe, unlucky me..."

"Oh." Now Akira knew why the guy looked strangely familiar. "And - sorry, you are?"

"Fukui, Fukui Yuuta! But my friends call me Fuku!" and the boy heartily offered his hand.

Akira hesitated a second, then shook it.

"Nice to meet you... again, Fukui-kun."

"Me too! Of course, no need to ask your name, Touya Akira... er... _sensei_?"

"Touya-kun is all right," Akira assured, while quickly checking no officials were close enough to overhear that breach in the protocol. He knew by experience some of them were even fussier about it than Kitajima-san, his most fervent supporter.

"Thanks! No wonder you don't remember me, I've never been much impressive," Fuku added. "I'm just one in the long series of people you crushed."

"Don't say that! It's been a long time, but now you've reminded me, I remember you better. You're insei at the Nihon-Ki-in, aren't you?"

The smile on the round face got sadder.

"I was," the boy replied, staring wistfully at the goban.

"Oh... You mean..."

"Yeah, I gave up," Fuku sighed.  
Noticing Akira's embarrassment, he quickly took a hold on himself and went on:  
"Never mind. I've tried, now I know I wasn't meant for a pro life. Suits better guys like you or Yashiro. Excellent game, by the way! You two were fighting so hard, 't'was very exciting!"

Akira smiled.

"Yes, we had a good game. I hadn't played Yashiro since the second Hokuto Cup, and his style has gained in consistency. He really has improved a lot."

"Wow, I really must wake up," a drawling voice said behind him.

Fuku hadn't seen coming the tall young man with very light blond - almost white hair, as untidy as the tie hanging loosely on a button-down purple shirt.

"What's the matter, Yashiro?" Akira asked without even turning his head.

"Hmm... I thought I was overhearing Touya 5-dan the Great commend me," Yashiro said. "Obviously I must have fallen asleep and I'm dreaming."

"I can't hear any loud snore right now, so obviously you're not," Akira retorted.

"Yeah, I understand you'd rather stay at some hotel than share my uncomfortable room," Yashiro said dryly.

"That's what I'd planned first but you insisted so much on putting me up at your place..."

"Yeah, because I owed you for last time. Sorry, I can't afford a big house with several private bedrooms, while my parents are still not eager to receive my Go acquaintances. So..."

"It's OK, Yashiro," Akira cut. He didn't want to go in yet another row with the touchy 3-dan, especially in front of a third watcher.  
"I've already slept in tinier places, and as for snoring room-mates, Ashiwara-san is ten times worse than you."

"Glad to know that. If you had lost today, I wouldn't have you say I didn't let you get your sleep."

"I'd never use so lame an excuse, had your unlikely supposition become reality."

"Unlikely, eh? So I've also dreamed that sweat drop during the double ko battle?"

"You sure have a talent for creating tricky situations. But I've never doubted the outcome."

Yashiro took a chair and sat astride it, his elbows on the back and a forefinger threateningly pointing to an impassive Akira.

"One day you'll wish you had more doubts... when I wipe your _moyo_ and that smug look on your face off in the same time!" he snarled.

Akira, who was putting back his stones in the bowl, stopped for a while.

"Hmm... I've already heard something like that before..." he said, pretending to muse over the matter. "Oh yes: that's more or less what Shindo tells me every week. He's been saying that for years now."

Yashiro was boiling, but before he could spit his rage, Fuku burst out laughing:

"Hahaha, yeah, _that_'s the kind of thing Shindo would say, for sure!"

Yashiro looked curiously at him.

"You know Shindo?"

"Yup, he's a good friend of mine!" Fuku said, widely grinning to the Kansai pro. "We were insei together for a year."

"Oh... And you came all the way from Tokyo to watch Touya play against me?".

"Er... no, I live here in Osaka. I moved last year," Fuku explained.

"OK, that's the reason for the strange Tokyo-ish accent in your mouth. Don't stay here too long though, or next year, Touya will make you repeat half your sentences."

"Like I always make you repeat!" Akira shrugged. "I've no problem understanding you as long as you articulate, or speak and eat separately."

"I don't remember you telling anything every time Shindo was spluttering during lunch, a string of noodles still linking the bowl and his big mouth," Yashiro observed.

"I gave up on him long ago. Hopeless case."

"What about Shindo?" Fuku asked opportunely. "I haven't seen him in the Festival, but I've only come today so..."

"He hasn't come," Akira said.

"Oh..."

Fuku looked slightly disappointed, but Yashiro didn't hide his contempt.

"Yeah, what bad excuse that lazy bum came up with again? I mean, apart from the 'not invited' one, I could arrange that."

"I told you he had already something with his study group," Akira explained. "He would have come otherwise."

"Bad excuse, that's it," Yashiro huffed.

"Obviously you don't know his master. But I'll tell him when I'm back."

"What time's your train tomorrow, by the way? I have a game in the morning, so if you leave after half past nine, don't forget to lock up and give the key to the caretaker."

"I won't forget. Since I have nothing tomorrow, I was thinking of sight-seeing a bit before going back home."

"Sight-seeing? Is there anything worth the sight in Osaka?" Yashiro said, as if the mere idea seemed completely odd to him.

"I guess so, though I still haven't found the time to check out."

"Yes, there is!" Fuku protested. "I've not been living here for long, but enough to know of many good places."

"Woah, take me on a tour some time," Yashiro drawled, obviously incredulous.

"Any time!" Fuku replied. He turned to Akira. "I can show you if you want!"

"Ah ? Er..."

"It's no problem for me!"

"Thanks... but you don't need to," Akira said, embarrassed.

"He's got no time to lose with an insei - I'm translating," Yashiro whispered to Fuku.

"_Yamero!_" Akira shouted, making both Yashiro and Fuku start on their chair, and the few people remaining in the room turn round. He was really angry this time. "Stop assuming things about me! You're insulting, to me and to Fukui-kun too!"

"Oh please!" Yashiro rejoined, unruffled. "I know of your polished ways to reject things that strongly bother you. Like 'Sorry, I'm too tired for a karaoke tonight.' Sheesh! Can't you tell things plain and clear?"

Akira was red, from confusion and anger.

"Yes, I was tired. I admit, I didn't feel like yelling silly songs in an overcrowded closet. Yes, I have polished ways to decline invitations, that I use even with blunt guys like you, because it's the way I was educated. If you have a problem with that, why don't you just leave Japan? Must be a hard place to live in for you!"

"Now, that's better. So won't you tell this gentleman, who kindly offered to be your guide tomorrow, why, while you're so eager to visit whatever can be visited in this darn city, you'll better do without him?"

Akira fumed.

"First, I didn't say that. Second, I assume that since tomorrow is a working day, Fukui-kun may have things to do..."

"I have some work in the morning, but I can free myself at noon," Fuku said immediately.

"So everything's fine!" Yashiro sniggered.

"Third: mind-your-own-business!" Akira hammered.

"Yeah, yeah, I let you guys settle things together," Yashiro stood up. "The ceremony should start soon... Hope they're done quickly with the speeches."

He walked away nonchalantly, leaving behind a very upset Akira, with a not-too-comfortable Fuku facing him.

"You know, I understand you'd rather stay by yourself..." the boy mumbled.

That didn't help to Akira's embarrassment, but he still had enough control of himself.

"Yashiro's wrong: I have yet to decide on this. Really, I don't want to be a burden to you."

"You're not! Er... I don't wanna be a burden to you either..." Fuku said in a little voice.

Akira sighed. Now that Yashiro had put him in a delicate situation, the better he had to do was to speak as frankly as he could without sounding rude.

"It's not that it'd bother me to spend the afternoon with somebody, but since we hardly know each other, I'm afraid we run short on conversation subjects..."

Fuku laughed.

"Hey, we've got at least one common interest, haven't we?" he said, patting the goban.

Akira smiled. The boy had scored a _moku_.

"I guess so."

"Here's the deal: I take you to nice places of Osaka - whatever Yashiro says, I'm sure you'll appreciate! In return, you tell me about the pro world, Shindo-kun and the other guys. You can even diss Yashiro as much as you like, I won't repeat it to him!" Fuku winked.

"Yashiro is a quick-tempered guy with personal issues," Akira said with a glance behind him. "That'll do for the dissing. As for the others... well, it's not like I hang about with everybody..."

His words sounded like he was hedging again. Akira had to sort the question out now. As he usually did when confronted with an alternative in a game, he quickly checked his mind to find any decisive argument against Fuku's offer, and found nothing. Instead, he thought that such a talkative boy might let slip out interesting facts about a certain someone, and _that_ was decisive.

"Now if you want to know about the pro world, I can tell you about, but an afternoon seems too short for that, so I'd rather have you ask me specific questions, don't you think?"

Fuku's face instantly brightened up.

"OK then! And... tomorrow... if possible..."

"Yes?"

"... can we play another game?"

* * *

The next day, Akira woke up early, while Yashiro was still snoring - he would not surface until 8.30, despite the game he had this morning. They had agreed that Akira would leave his things in Yashiro's place for another day, to get back them before taking his train in the evening. Thus, after a quick - and certainly insufficient - breakfast, the young pro was striding down the streets of Osaka for a day of cultural sight-seeing. 

Akira chose to spend the morning in two famous sites of the city: Osaka castle, from the top of which he could enjoy a panoramic view over the whole metropolis, then the Shitennoji temple, generally considered Japan's most ancient.

"That's good for a start," Fuku had told him. "They're packed with visitors, especially now, but you mustn't miss them."

Indeed, both places were literally swarming with people wielding various models of digital cameras. Akira, who really wasn't the typical tourist, kept away as much as he could from the throng, letting his eyes wander over the venerable architectures. He had thought of bringing back a souvenir for his mother, but the sight of besieged stalls made him give up the idea for the time being.

On his way southward, he stopped by the luxuriant Tennoji Park. He hadn't much time left before his meeting with Fuku, so he totally skipped the zoo and the art museum, and just walked down an alley or two - in the shade wherever possible, admiring the flowerbeds and greenery.

It was about twelve when he got out of Abenobashi Station. He paused among the bustling crowd to take a tissue and wipe his forehead: sun and weariness were taking their due... Then, a scrap of paper stuck in his palm, he bravely tried to find his way in the populous streets of Abeno ward. To tell the truth, Fuku's hand-drawn map was quite sketchy, but when Akira asked to locals, he was quickly and easily directed to a small block of traditional houses seemingly lost among taller buildings. At last he found the wide frontage of a shop topped by a quaint curved roof.

In the window, various flower arrangements, earthenware Buddhas, china plates, lacquered boxes and calligraphy scrolls were on display. Nailed by the entrance on the right side, a wooden sign read "Fukui Satoshi, decorator" in carved, black-painted ideograms. Those were also scribbled on the map, so Akira knew he had just to push the door to reach the rendezvous point.

The tinkling of chimes welcomed him as he stepped into a dimly lit hall. At once, Akira felt the temperature fall down to a pleasant coolness, though he couldn't hear the usual purr of an AC, nor the flap of ceiling fans. It was like entering a cellar, but a well-kept one, with light paintwork that made up for the lack of daylight - the scrolls hanging in the window blocking out a sheer part of it. Overall, the room was very neat, except for a bunch of packages piled on the side, probably goods ready for delivery.

"_Konnichiha_, sir, may I help you?" a soft voice asked behind the counter. Akira reckoned the woman in kimono was roughly the same age as Ichikawa-san, the pretty receptionist working at his father's Go salon. He bowed quickly.

"_Konnichiha_, I'm Touya Akira. I'd like to see Fukui Yuuta, we've arranged to meet here today."

The woman smiled.

"Fukui-kun is busy in the stockroom, but he will be done soon. Please have a seat while I'm telling him of your coming. Will you have some tea?"

"No, thank you very much," Akira replied on the same courteous tone. He couldn't honestly claim he wasn't thirsty, but he was the kind of person who would die rather than take the slightest risk of being considered a freeloader.

Once the woman was out of sight, he slumped down onto a padded stool. He was not used to walk so much, and at midday, he felt already dead on his feet. While relaxing his leg muscles, he looked over the collection of bonsai lined up on the shelves next to him. Though he was no expert on the matter, he could tell those were skilfully pruned, as the few ones in his parent's house were. The statuettes and other ornaments across the room didn't appeal to him as much, probably because he had been raised in the traditional Japanese austerity his father was very attached to. Luckily, he was spared the need to pretend some interested gaze for too long: a sweating Fuku in overalls turned up with a grin, and a crate he softly put down on the floor with the other packages.

"That's it!" he said, releasing a satisfied puff. He turned to Akira. "Hi! Sorry for making you wait, but I had all these orders to prepare..."

"No need to apologize, I was late myself," Akira said, standing up. "If you're busy, maybe I should..."

"No, no ! Everything's OK, just gimme two minutes to get changed and we go!"

"Go where, kid?" asked a gruff voice from the back of the shop.

Fuku winced as a regular stamp came resounding, followed by a short man slowly padding in, leaving it to the bamboo cane he was holding to stress his steps. In the dim light of the shop, Akira could see the man was old, probably in his seventies if not older. He was wearing a dark-green suit of Chinese fashion, and a black skull cap topped his salt-and-pepper hair. He was even shorter than Fuku, but standing straight, not actually leaning on his cane, which looked more like a symbol of authority.

"I've told you, _Jii-san_," Fuku groaned.

"You told me you had things to do this afternoon," the man retorted, "but I thought you wanted to get ahead with your work."

Fuku sighed.

"That was this morning, to get the afternoon free. I promised my friend here to guide him around."

The man glanced at Akira, who bowed to introduce himself.

"_Konnichiha_, sir. I'm Touya Akira."

The man just grunted in (no) answer, turning again to his grandson.

"And the orders you had to prepare, will they ship on their own?"

"They're ready," Fuku replied, nodding to the packages on the side, "and I've called Makoto-san to come in an hour to load everything."

"Makoto is not at your service!" the old man snapped. "He's a serious, hard-working lad who does a very good job and doesn't have to make it fit your personal schedule."

"But he said it's OK!" Fuku whined desperately.

"If you don't mind, Fukui-sama," the young lady in kimono suddenly interceded , "let me say your grandson is a very serious boy as well. He's been working hard all the morning to fulfill his duties, and he has finished them properly. Since he moved in with you, he's had very few occasions to see his old friends from Tokyo again; wouldn't it be cruel to make him miss this chance?"

The old man shrugged.

"You're too indulgent, Onoki-san. The earliest you learn to forgo personal pleasure and value the virtues of work, the better. This one has been drifting for too long," he said, tilting his head toward Fuku.

"But Fukui-kun has made a promise to this young man," Onoki added, smiling. "Surely you don't want him to lose face by making him break it."

"Don't mess with me, Onoki-san," Fukui Satoshi said, but his voice was not as peremptory as his words meant. Obviously, Onoki's soft manners had some influence over the old master's temper. He made a few steps toward Akira.

"You look like a serious young man, you should understand that Yuuta-kun's business is not tourism."

As uncomfortable as Akira felt, he was too well trained to lose his composure.

"I perfectly understand, sir. Fukui-kun's offer was so generous I had no reason to refuse, all the more so as he assured me it wouldn't interfere with his duties. But since you seem to think otherwise, I won't get in the way of your honorable business. Let me just thank your grandson for his kindness before I leave."

Both Fuku and Onoki stared at him, amazed. When speaking, Akira was radiating so much dignity through his relatively casual wear that the young lady thought the young boy would make a great diplomat or minister. Yet that was not enough to impress the shop's owner.

"Yes, do that," he said blankly. "Unlike you, he has no time for day-long strolls."

Akira turned livid in shock, but before he could think of any answer, Fuku exploded:

"_Jii-san_! Touya-_sensei_ was working yesterday, and the day before!"

The man stared at Akira, this time with interest:

"_Sensei _? So... What does this young master teach?"

"Ah ! Erm..." Fuku blurted, suddenly panicky.

"I'm a Go professional," Akira said. "I was giving lessons at the Kansai Institute's Festival yesterday."

Fuku sighed in despair. His grandfather now displayed a ferocious grin.

"There we are! I should have expected that... Of course you'd spoil half your day on senseless games, rather than earning it in a real business!"

"That's not true !" Fuku tried, unconvincing.

"There's no point lying. You really hope me to believe you'd spend a whole afternoon with a Go expert just for a walk around?"

"Maybe just one game, only if we have time..." Fuku mumbled. But the master wasn't even listening.

"As for you," he said bluntly to Akira, "I said you look like a serious young man, yet you're not ashamed of what you do for a living?"

At that point, most people in Akira's position would just lose face, and leave at once without a word, possibly making sure the door slams loudly behind them.  
But you don't stoop to wimpy escape when you're the son of a Meijin - even a former one. In other times, the _katana_ would have already flown out of its sheath and swiftly beheaded the impudent midget. That handy artefact being outlawed since the Meiji Restoration, Akira just glowered back, his jade-green eyes expressing clearly their desire of watching the old man being incinerated on the spot.  
Yet his voice remained very calm. Since he became a pro, and even before, he had already met his share of arrogant know-it-all: most of the time their demeaning speech betrayed some hidden inferiority complex.

"No, I'm not. I'm aware many people like you think playing and teaching Go is not a serious activity. They share the same views about actors and artists too, but they have little idea of the amount of work involved."

The man stroke his beard, staring straight at Akira.

"Oh, I'm not denying the work, my young fellow, I'm questioning the _purpose_!"

"The purpose..." Akira repeated, half-smiling. "For you, I guess there's none. For my part, seeing the pleasure people take in the game, and how gratefully they thank me after a lesson is enough for me."

"All right, you give pleasure to people," Fukui replied ironically. "Is that all?"

"That's already a lot!" Akira's anger was making its way up his throat. "There are other reasons, but I don't think you'd understand them, if you hate Go so much." Akira took a breath before striking back: "Anyway, I, for one, can say my business is an honest one!"

He didn't add "_I don't know about yours_" but his tone strongly implied it, and he had no doubt the geezer would get it. He just hoped things wouldn't get physical, not that he feared the bamboo cane, but he didn't really imagine himself manhandling anybody, even defensively.

The old master didn't use his cane against Akira. He just kept stroking his beard, inquisitively squinting at the young Go pro. Akira thought it was great time to leave, but before he could make a move, the owner spoke again.

"Am I wrong to presume your 'other reasons' include the so-called _Kami no itte_?"

Akira started.

"How..."

"How do I know about that? Yuuta-kun has told me about it..."

Fuku lowered his head, as if he knew already what was going to follow.

"Actually, _that_ would be a good purpose," the man continued matter-of-factly. "Only..."

He allowed himself a pause. Obviously, he liked to save his effects for the gallery. Akira thought Fuku's grandfather would make a right pair with Kuwabara-_sensei_ - as long as Go was not involved. He also thought he couldn't stand the old crank any longer.

"Only?" he let out impatiently.

"... only you Go professionals have no chance to ever find it!"

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**NOTES:**

_Chuo-ku_: a ward in downtown Osaka, where the Kansai Go Institute headquarters are located.

_Tsuke_: attachment, contact play against an opposite stone (without being connected with a friendly one).

_Nobi_: stretch, solid extension. "A _nobi_ is often a good response to a _tsuke_" (Sensei's Library).

_Moyo_: "framework", zone of influence that has the potential to become a territory.

_Yamero_: "stop that"

--

Here's - at last! the real beginning of my fic. I know, it took me _that_ long to come up with this chapter... I'm all the sorrier as I was so happy reading all of your reviews! It's so rewarding to know the time spent in various researches is appreciated! This time, I had to hunt for every piece of information about Osaka and the Kansai Go Institute. If I ever have the opportunity to travel there, maybe I'll rewrite this with better depictions of the place?

You're unanimous in commending my English, thus making me blush a lot. Before anybody gets any complex, let me say it's the result of twenty or more rewrites and re-readings, working through grammar books, dictionaries and thesaurus. Would you believe the hard time I have just trying to describe the most common everyday actions? So please never hesitate to correct me and thus improve the overall quality of this fic.

A few answers to some of your questions/comments:

Ikeda: I'm afraid Seimei's dead. But I'd be surprised if his name didn't come out in the following chapters...

Shimizu Hitomi: As a real go player, you must beat me on go writing! I'm so sorry but I'll probably take forever to update too... Thanks for your detailed review and your patience!

Jacqueline Land: I had doubts myself, but all along the "Onmyoji" movie, where the action unfolds in Seimei's youth, it's "Mikado this, Mikado that" (on the Japanese track), so I guess old Seimei may still use that title sometimes. Not that I consider the movie an unquestionable source, but well... Anyway, I'll try my best to make the incredible credible:)

Halley: I've read Murinae's saga and appreciated it (should review it some day:) I doubt I'll ever reach her level of detailing. I'm afraid Sai's dead, too. But a HnG story without Sai isn't really HnG, is it ? (no wonder they stopped the manga after that).

Thanks again to everybody, I'll try not to try your patience too much!

Valérien


	4. The Mirror of Earth

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning: _spoilers everywhere!

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**4. The Mirror of Earth**

* * *

"You Go professionals have no chance to ever find it!"

The words left Akira nonplussed. He didn't believe a single one of them, but they were so unexpected that he didn't know how to react. He was just standing there, under Fukui Satoshi's thorough examination - so he realized suddenly. Still, he was able to come with a sharp reply after ten seconds:

"For someone who despises Go and has only heard about the _Kami no itte_, you're pretty well informed."

"You'd be surprised, young man," the man hissed.

Despite his sarcastic words, he was not really glaring at Akira. It was rather as if the little black eyes were trying to drill throughout the jade ones, sneaking a look at what was hiding behind. As long as anger was obsessing him, Akira hadn't felt the lock in the stare, but now he was very aware of it. Actually, to find himself unable to break it was _really_ disturbing.

Fortunately, he was delivered by a sudden crash on the left: for some reason, a broom leaning on the wall had just fall flat on the floor, next to Fuku. The plump boy bent down and lifted it up against the wall, his face all flushed. The master turned his head to look daggers at his clumsy grandson, and Akira sighed inwardly. His only one desire now was to move away as soon as possible from that shop and its unpleasant owner.

"I'm leaving now. Have a nice day," he said quickly, and turning round on his heels, he made for the door.

"Ah..." Fuku let out, but he couldn't utter anything else. No doubt the Go afternoon was doomed now.

"Fukui-sama!" Onoki implored. The young lady had followed the argument between her boss and the pro with a mix of shame and confusion.

The old master didn't answer but turned again to Akira, who had already a foot on the outer door step.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" he called smugly.

Akira paused, then, hardly turning his head back:

"I don't mind your ranting, sir. Goodbye."

The master smiled like the insolence cut no ice with him.

"Maybe you'll mind if I let Yuuta-kun serve them to you," he sniggered. "All right, go and tell him," he said to Fuku.

"Huh ?" Fuku gaped. "You mean..."

"I mean you can spend the afternoon with this young sir; it won't be totally lost if you can teach him a truth or two... Just remember you still have studies tonight!" he added severely.

"...'kay! er... yes!" Fuku mumbled, all confused by this unexpected permission. Akira was still in the doorway, a bit surprised too by the sudden turn of events. Fuku ran to him: "Wait for me outside," he whispered, then he dashed to the stockroom. His grandfather was slowly retreating the same way, ignoring them all as if they were now out of his concern. The young lady at the counter bestowed an embarrassed smile and a quick bow upon Akira. The boy answered with a nod, then closed the door.

The heat was falling down on him again, but paradoxically Akira was breathing more easily. He wasn't usually scared by people, but the old decorator had really given him a very disturbing impression. He made a few steps in the street, quickly getting away from the shop window. It was most unlikely that its owner would be spying on him right now, but nonetheless, Akira felt a strong need of putting some distance between the two of them. The idea of running away without waiting for Fuku even crossed his mind, but that would be for sure a very disloyal move and Akira wasn't that kind. So he went and sat down on a bench, in the scarce shade of a deserted bus shelter near the street corner, where the boy would find him easily.

Five minutes later indeed, he could see Fuku sprinting toward him. He had taken his overalls off, and after a very quick token wash, changed his tee-shirt dripping with sweat, though the clean one would not remain dry very long if he kept running under the sun.

"Ah, thank you for waiting," the already panting boy managed to say. "Let's go."

So they went, without uttering a word: the embarrassing scene in the shop was still fresh in their mind, and none of them dared strike up the conversation again. But as they were walking in no definite direction, Akira eventually spoke.

"Hmm, Fukui-kun?"

"Uh?" Fuku piped with a start.

"Where do we go?"

They both stopped. Fuku scratched the back of his head, half-laughing.

"Ha-ha, yeah... Hmm, I suppose you've not had lunch yet?"

"Actually no, and it'd be a good start, I think," Akira hurried to say before his stomach emitted any loud confirmation of its own.

"OK!" Fuku agreed, his good mood coming back. "I know a place nearby where the _takoyaki_ are great!"

"Well, fine."

If they had to go fast-food, Akira might as well taste a specialty rather than the common burger junk. So he followed Fuku in a narrow popular street flanked by many small shops and restaurants. Fuku chose one of them, and they both took a sit on high stools next to the counter. Behind it, a man in his twenties was keeping an eye on the dumplings dancing in the foaming oil. He cast a grin to Fuku.

"Wow, Fukui-kun! We don't see you much in the week. How'd you managed to fly away from the crusty old bird?"

Fuku shrugged.

"I'm still wondering. Just mind your fryer, will you?"

The waiter laughed. He served them with two generous helpings of takoyaki, along with cups of soft drink - Akira half-emptied his in a single long sucking up.

The two boys started eating silently. Silently meaning they were not speaking, for silence was irrelevant outside their short length of counter, between the sizzling fat and loud conversations behind them - it was lunchtime for many people. At least, they were in the shade, a bit away from the street, but not too close to the fryer, which was better for their clothes: they would probably reek of sweat by the end of the day and didn't need that extra flavor.

So all seemed perfect for the two boys, yet they kept mute again. Akira could already see his fears come true, but finally, Fuku spoke again.

"I'm sorry you had to put up with Jii-san," he mumbled. "He's not a cool guy, but if I'd known he'd make all that fuss..."

"Well, I'm sorry I was a bit rude with your grandfather too..." said Akira, who was hardly sorry, but still polite.

"_He_ was rude with you!" Fuku replied, suddenly fiery. "He has no right to talk to you like that! Don't be sorry, it's great time somebody put him in his place."

Akira half-smiled.

"I didn't quite succeed, actually."

"Yeah, but the things you said... you know, that's all I've ever wanted to tell him. It's just..." Fuku sighed. "...I can't speak as well as you."

Akira shrugged.

"Whether you speak well or not, there's none so deaf as one who will not hear."

"Wow, another one I must remember! I'll ask you to write it down for me before you leave," Fuku laughed. "The problem with Jii-san is, he's too stubborn to change his mind once he's made it, on any matter. Just because he started his business from scratch, all by himself, he relies entirely on his experience and doesn't accept others' that easily. Otherwise, he's not a bad guy."

"If you say so..." Akira still found the guy creepy. "You've been working with him for long?"

"Since last October... after I failed the pro exam again. My parents put the pressure on me before, saying that I'd better pass, or at least improve my insei ranking. I did neither of them, so I hadn't much options left. I wasn't too good at school either... Since Jii-san asked many times Dad that I come and work with him, we decided it was better for me. If I prove myself, Jii-san may even let me take the shop over after him."

Fuku's tone was optimistic, but the words sounded more like something he needed to tell himself again and again to feel the least convinced. That didn't escape Akira.

"You like your new job?"

Fuku took a moment, nibbling the straw of his cup, before answering.

"Well, at first, it wasn't too exciting. Jii-san put me on deliveries and other simple stuff. But ever since, he's entrusted me with more tasks, and I must say he's taught me a lot..."

What he was taught Fuku didn't specify, though it seemed to give him much to think about.

"But he won't let you play Go..."

"It's not that he _forbids_ me, but he sure tries to put me off playing as much as he can," Fuku sighed. " I didn't tell him I was going to the _Ki-in_ yesterday, for example, he'd have made up some extra chore for me to do at once! He keeps saying I've played more than enough Go for a lifetime."

Akira put down his cup. Now he was feeling better enough to get comforting to other people.

"I see... You and Yashiro should join in the 'non-supportive relatives' club."

"Oh, Yashiro has problems with his family?"

"More or less. His parents tend to think, like your grandfather, that Go's not a serious business. Yashiro struggled on in spite of that, and he did well. Now that he's risen to 3-dan and he's living by himself, it's not as much hampering for him; though I guess he wouldn't mind a bit of acknowledgement from them..."

"I wish I was as strong as him..." Fuku sighed. He didn't precise what kind of strength he longed for, in Go or in character. Probably both. He took a last sip from the straw, then jumped off the stool.

"Ready to go?"

Akira nodded. After a short struggle of courtesy about who would treat who, they both paid for their quick meal ("But promise me you'll let me treat you later!" Fuku protested.)

Now that they were filled up and refreshed, the heat was much more bearable. As they were strolling up the narrow street, Akira even found a certain pleasure in the drowsiness of the nascent afternoon. Fuku, his hands lazily stuffed in his shorts pockets, was enjoying it as well.

"Never been to Osaka before, Touya-kun?"

"Hmm, five times actually, but each time just for a single game. This is the first time I stay this long."

"That's right, you must travel a lot with all your pro games," Fuku said in awe.

Akira smiled.

"Only for title games against higher _dan_ pros outside of Tokyo, which means mainly Osaka or Nagoya. And there's little place for tourism in the schedule: checking in at the hotel, reception, game, post-game comments, interviews, other cocktails or receptions, checking out, back into the train."

"Wow, don't you sleep in between ?"

"Sometimes, when I don't forget."

"Hahaha ! You really need this day of sight-seeing, then," Fuku laughed. "How did you find the castle?"

"Very crowded, as you warned. But it's a nice place."

"No surprise at this time of the year... So, where d'you wanna go now? As for ancient stuff, you've already seen the best, I think; it's not as rich here as in Kyoto or Nara... If you want to go shopping, there's the Umeda center, or Tenjinbashisuji, the longest shopping street in Japan! We must go all the way northward to Kita-ku though..."

"I think I've had my share of crowd this morning, so I'd rather stay in open spaces... not too far away if you don't mind..." Akira begged.

"Hmm... Let me think. There's a nice route here in Abeno-ku that goes through pretty shrines, very quiet, but it's a bit short for a whole afternoon. We can keep it for later. Why don't we go back to Tennoji, you've only passed through this morning, maybe you want to see more of it?"

"With that heat, I sure prefer a walk among trees rather than buildings! Fine for me."

"OK. Let's go!"

* * *

Akira should have known that walking in open spaces or walking among the crowd affected his legs in either case. Fortunately, Fuku was very understanding on that matter, and never objected a pause on a bench or a drink at a stall ("My treat this time!"), especially since he was by far the most parched of the two. Probably because he was the most talkative, too.

Akira tried to tell him all he could remember about Fuku's old friends, but that was mainly data about games, results and rankings, all things the former insei was able to follow himself in _Weekly Go_ or any other source. Yet Fuku was listening avidly, all too happy to recall every glimpse of the world he once belonged to. He often chipped in with personal memories of his: how he used to defeat Waya, how he and Nase were always fighting for the last ranks, how Ochi reviewed himself his lost games in the toilets...

"You know," he said earnestly, "we were all competing against each other, yet my best friends up to now are still those from my insei days. Sometimes I even wish we all stayed together forever..."

Akira couldn't know. He had never been an insei, he never had any friend who wasn't already pro and several years older. Fuku's fond memories didn't meet with any response from him. It was like being told about a foreign country he'd never been to and didn't plan to visit any time soon.

"... but it's just a dream," Fuku concluded sadly. "The winners move forward, the others remain behind, that's the way it is. You don't think about it when you pass the insei test and start in class 2. You just realize when one after another, your friends leave for the pro world or give up."

Again, Akira couldn't really comprehend "to remain behind". He lost games sometimes, but not so often that it'd stop his steady rise. At most, a loss barred him the way to a title, but it didn't matter too much: Akira would just try again the following year.

It was hard in these conditions to find proper, soothing words that wouldn't sound false, so the young pro just kept mum, listening to Fuku's babble with half an ear. He pricked up a full one, though, when a familiar name flew in the air:

"... like Shindo who became pro after ten months only! He's one who spent the least time with us, and I almost miss him the most! We had such fun together," Fuku lamented.

"He sure rose quickly..." Akira muttered intently.

"Yeah, I remember his first days among us. Everybody was talking about him as your rival. Oh, by the way, it's true you've played him third board in a junior high tournament before?"

Fuku was waiting eagerly for Akira's answer. The 5-dan blushed: four years after, that episode was still an embarrassing memory, but the fact was well known and he could hardly lie about this.

"Hmm... yes, just once," Akira said cautiously. "He had played a few good games before, and we were two or three pro interested by his skills. But he was rather disappointing at the time..."

_How euphemistic!_ Akira thought. _A few good games... You mean stupendously brilliant ones! That astonished Ogata-san, my father, our whole Go salon, Yun-sensei, plus nearly every teacher and student attending that winter tournament at Kaio... and me, of course. As for the disappointment..._

Once again, Akira was bumping on the everlasting mystery surrounding his rival. The best he could do was putting a name on it: _Sai_. But that was no real clue. He doubted Fuku could give any either.

"Haha, yeah, he wasn't much when he started," the boy agreed. "Even brought up the rear for a couple of month before he reached class 1 in April. Then, he managed to be ranked 16th just in time for the Wakajishisen. In the pro-prelims, he was one of the last qualified, just like me and Nase, a really close call. Did he tell you how freaked he was by that big bearded Godzilla?"

"He didn't. I can understand that..." Akira said, carefully recording that fact for a possible teasing of his rival.

"But in the pro exam," Fuku went on seriously, "he was totally different. First, he didn't fear Godzilla Beard anymore, even made friend with him, kinda. Then, he had that long winning streak, just like Ochi and Isumi, and he managed to beat both of them! In the end, he passed as the third _shodan_, behind Waya and Ochi..."

Fuku gulped. Stating that simple fact was hard for him: two friends had left him behind that year...

"When I think of it, it seems like he was only just passing each stage, but actually, he's been a real shooting star among us. Now, he's your rival... All in all, he hasn't been so disappointing, has he?" Fuku tittered.

Akira didn't answer. _The mystery remains._

* * *

After a long walk among the greeneries and attractions of Tennoji Park, they were back in Abeno ward to finish the day with the little stroll Fuku had suggested.

"What's this place?" Akira asked, as they were proceeding past a huge _torii_.

"Abe no Seimei's shrine," Fuku announced proudly. "A little less known that the one in Kyoto, but still..."

The shrine wasn't especially outstanding compared to those they had already visited previously, with its paved path winding amidst ancient buildings, majestic trees and stone lanterns. More than elsewhere though, the quiet atmosphere all around gave a pregnant feeling of exiting the flow of time, a typical feature of deeply spiritual places. The shade under the trees was even more refreshing than Tennoji's.

"Abe no Seimei..." Akira said. "If I'm not mistaken, he's a famous fortune teller of the Heian era?"

"Fortune teller, yeah, and a bit of a wizard too," Fuku replied. "He's quite a legendary guy here. There, d'you recognize this?"

He was pointing to a statue nearby. Akira looked at the stone effigy of a fox, at the feet of which a few offerings had been laid. The answer seemed obvious:

"Inari?"

Fuku shook his head.

"Seimei's mother, Kuzunoha. She's a white _kitsune_, who was in love with Abe no Yasuna. She gave all of her powers to their child. This shrine is built on Seimei's birthplace."

"Legendary, that's the word," Akira commented. "Do you think people here still believe those tales?"

Fuku glanced at Akira, looking for a mocking twitch in the pro's lips, but saw none. The words also were devoid of underlying irony, as if Akira was just conducting a survey about religious behaviors in the Kansai region.

"That wouldn't be surprising," Fuku said. "Seimei's very popular in this ward. His festival is held here every fall and gathers a lot of people... or so I've been told, I came too late last year to see it myself. Now, whether they believe the tales or not isn't really important, as long as they all have fun, don't you think?"

"I won't blame them for liking this place at any rate, it's so peaceful!"

Fuku grinned.

"I like loafing around here! You know what I most wanna do each time I come here?" he said, shoving a hand in his deep Bermudas pocket.

"Hmm... hear you fortune told?" Akira tried, a bit unsettled by the winking boy, and catching sight of a large sign advertising that very activity.

"Haha, no," Fuku laughed, and he pulled out his hand, triumphantly wielding a folding travel Go board.  
"Of course, a real goban would be better, but it doesn't fit in," he added merrily, slapping the side of his shorts. "So, if you don't mind..."

Akira smiled.

"Okay..."

They sat down on a bench on the courtyard side, under the eaves. That time, Fuku reasonably agreed to a two stones handicap. Of course, to stick the small magnetic stones upon that reduced surface wasn't nearly as much satisfying as a good game on a real goban with handy stones of the proper size, even cheap ones.

But had they used black and white bottle caps upon a grid drawn on dirt, Fuku's delight wouldn't be lesser. He took his time on each hand, trying hard to build a solid strategy. He didn't succeed but at least wasn't forced to resign, and he lost by a decent three moku - of course, Akira hadn't gone all out against him.

"As far as I can judge from our games, your style relies heavily on intuition," the young pro reckoned. "Most of the time, it makes you answer accurately, and leads you to interesting openings, but you still need to calculate and anticipate to turn them into consistent sequences."

Still in the enjoyment of their game, Fuku didn't object to Akira's review.

"Aha. I'm always told I rush things too much. But sometimes, I win against stronger opponents who can't follow, I dunno why..."

"Probably because your way of playing disturbs their logic, and more likely because they don't calculate enough either."

"Haha, you must be right," Fuku admitted meekly. "I really need to work on that point. I mean, when I can..."

With that statement of his unfortunate situation came another uncomfortable silence, that Akira suddenly broke:

"By the way, what did your grandfather want you to tell me ?... about the Hand of God?"

Fuku's smile vanished at once. The boy waved dismissively:

"Never mind, he doesn't know nothing about that."

"Yet he seemed pretty assertive. You told him about it first, if I've understood well?"

"Yeah, not the best thing I've done in my life," Fuku said bitterly. "At that time, I still believed I could change his mind about Go, that it wasn't stupid at all."

"And he didn't listen..."

"He did listen to me. Then, he used my speech to make Go look even more stupid. So, I gave up on it."

"He says Go professionals are unable to find the _Kami no itte_ from what you told him? What are his arguments?"

Fuku glanced miserably at Akira.

"You really want to know?"

"Well... yes, I'm curious," Akira acknowledged. Fuku's reluctance was obvious but Akira wanted an answer. "Since your grandfather made it a condition for you to go with me, let's be fair and fulfill our part of the deal. I don't think it'll change my mind anyway," he added to convince the younger boy.

After twenty seconds of toying nervously with a pair of stones, Fuku gave in.

"All right..."

He dropped the stones and sighed.

"Of course, you know what the Hand of God is?"

"That is..." Akira hesitated. "Well, it's supposed to be the ideal game a god would play; the perfect sequence that assure, say black's victory whatever hand white chooses..."

Fuku nodded.

"That's more or less what I explained to Jii-san... That and only very advanced players have a clue about it, and it may take centuries to find out, or never. You know what's his answer? 'Yuuta-baka, tell me who's the god stupid enough to play that way.' That's what he said."

"What'd be the proper way of playing for a god, then?"

"He told me but..." Fuku scratched his head. "Well, it's not what you and I would call 'playing'..."

"What do you mean?" Akira asked, with more nervousness than he wanted to show.  
Fuku understood he couldn't remain evasive and had to spill it all.

"First, you're not supposed to look for victory..." he began.

"You mean you need to end the game with a tie, _jigo_? I've heard something about that theory..."

"Not even that! How can I put it?" Fuku crossed his arms, thinking hard. "... You still have two people putting black and white stones on a goban; that doesn't change at least... Now imagine both don't give a damn about taking stones or making their territories bigger."

Akira rested his chin on his fist.

"That doesn't look like the game we know, for sure. Then, it can't be the _Kami no itte_ sought by the great players along the centuries."

"Yeah, according to Jii-san, it's got nothing to do with the Igo game, but what existed _before_ the game."

"Before the game?"

Akira's perplexity was rising.

"You know Go is an ancient game, maybe the oldest," Fuku said. "But the goban and the stones were in use even before the game was created."

"Ah, you mean for divination? I've read a book about that: how the early goban were used as maps for astrology..."

Fuku shook his head firmly.

"Astrology, no, not at all."

"Yet in the book I read, it was clear," Akira insisted. "19x19 lines that make 361 intersections, black or white, for the nights and days in the year, the stars on the board..."

"Yeah, the _hoshi_ for the planets, or the seven pole stars, the sun and the moon," Fuku interjected. "But the oldest goban found in China were 17x17. At the time, people must know about five planets only. Besides, a sky chart is drawn in a circle, not a square."

Akira goggled at Fuku. To be honest, he didn't expect him to challenge him on the mere ground of cultural knowledge, especially Go history.

"The square has always been a figure of the Earth," Fuku explained, pointing to the small board between them. "The forces of the universe criss-cross the earth and divide it."

He ran a finger around the territories.

"Here: black, darkness, _On_. There: white, light, _Myo_. On the goban, we can simulate their flow."

Akira was scrutinizing the board as if he was just discovering it.

"_On_ and _Myo_, the two forces, can't exist by themselves, they need each other to... well, to just be," Fuku continued. "One can't prevail absolutely against the other; you need a balance between them if you want things to go smooth. That's what is called the Way."

He took a second of reflection.

"Hmm, Jii-san would yell it's not as simple as that... Anyway, I guess it's the reason you can't have a winner in that kind of game."

"I see... Your grandfather is a Taoist, isn't he?" Akira concluded.

"Taoist? I dunno... Actually, as a decorator, he practices _fuusui_ a lot. Like the choice of colors for painting, the layout of a room, you know... Always looking for harmony everywhere. He taught me a bit..." Fuku added as to excuse himself.

"That must be interesting," Akira smiled. "Now what about the _Kami no itte_ in Go?"

"The Hand of God, yeah... Well, if you see the goban as a mirror of Earth, you can imagine two gods playing _on_ and _myo_ in order to spread harmony upon the world."

"To spread harmony..." Akira repeated thoughtfully. "So that's why they can't fight each other?"

"Yup. Like Jii-san said: 'Your Go should be a _building_ game, not a fighting one.' He even said the original Go had to be like that, and later on some idiots _perverted_ it into a martial art - that's his word."

Fuku looked quite upset.

"In a way, he's not wrong," Akira said softly. "In Go, you don't try to kill your opponent, you manage to coexist with him, while pushing your advantage all the same."

"Of course you push your advantage!" Fuku retorted sharply. "A game of no winner is not a real game! No fight is no fun! Putting stones just to make pretty figures on the board, that's only good for small kids!"

Akira chuckled.

"Except you don't let small kids play with small stones. But for the rest, I totally agree with you."

Fuku half-smiled, calming down.

"Yeah, you're not the one I need to tell those things. But there's no point telling them to Jii-san either. 'Fun' is no good reason for him, I guess it doesn't even belong to his vocabulary."

"He won't look after you forever," Akira said soothingly. "Soon you'll be old enough to take your own decisions, so never give up on Go, especially since you've reached an insei class 1 level."

"If it was just a question of age..." Fuku muttered gloomily. "Sure I'll never give up Go!" he claimed, straightening up. "I seize every occasion to play. There's a club nearby where I sneak sometimes."

"Fine. How good are the players?"

Fuku's shoulders slumped.

"They're old geezers who don't accept handicap stones easily, even when I tell them I've been insei. So our games are not balanced, and that's not interesting for nobody, but it's better than nothing."

He raised bright eyes to Akira:

"Now you understand what it means to me, to play you twice in two days! I can't thank you enough for that!"

"You're welcome," Akira said, blushing slightly. "If you're so desperate to find good opponents, I can have a word with Yashiro if you want."

Fuku's face lit up.

"You'd do that? That would be so cool! Though as a pro, he must be too busy, like you..."

"As a formerly oppressed player, he'd better be understanding. Anyway, if he can find time for karaoke, he mustn't be _that_ busy," Akira huffed.

Fuku considered the offer while he was taking the little stones away inside the folding board.

"No... that wouldn't be a good idea," he let out at last with perceptible regret. "I wouldn't like Jii-san to mess up with him like he did with you."

"As you wish."

"But thanks anyway, Touya-kun," Fuku added, his eyes gleaming. "Let me tell you this: whatever Waya can say about you, like... erm, like... you... mustn't be a good friend..." he blurted under Akira's stare, "... now I know he's wrong!" he asserted strongly in the same breath.

Akira cast a wry smile. He was aware of his own reputation of coldness, but he didn't mind - or pretended not to mind what Waya or anyone could think or say about it. On that account, he didn't mind Fuku's good opinion of him either. Yet the boy's attempt to make up for his clumsy praise took him aback:

"... and I'm sure Shindo knows it too!"

* * *

It wasn't late in the evening, the sky wasn't totally dark yet.

Akira was already in the Shinkansen, heading back home. Under the veranda softly lit by three paper lanterns, a kneeling Fuku was sweating on a complex calligraphy. His grandfather was sitting nearby, reading a scroll.

"Did you have a good afternoon, Yuuta-kun?"

Curiously enough, no sarcasm. Fuku answered on the same monotone.

"Fine."

Silence.

"Did you tell him?"

"I did," Fuku replied neutrally. And to prevent the unavoidable question: "He didn't mind."

"Just as I expected. Too bad."

Again, no scathing comment, just a statement.

Another silence, and the friction of the brush on paper.

"Yes, too bad," Fukui Satoshi repeated after a while. "There's something about that boy..."

He glanced at his grandson, but Fuku seemed totally engrossed by his task and didn't react.

"I was close to find out... if only you hadn't spoiled everything with that stupid broom..."

Fuku looked like he wanted to shrink.

"Unless... you did it on purpose?"

Irony or threat? Fuku couldn't tell this time, but either way, it was no use lying to Grandpa.

"I don't like it, Jii-san," he said in a muffled voice.

Heavy silence. Then the old man snorted.

"Idiot! What are you afraid of?"

Fuku didn't answer.

"You've messed that last character. Take another scroll and restart from the beginning."

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**NOTES:**

_Jii-san_: Grandpa. Forgot to mention it in the previous chapter, my bad.

_Takoyaki_: octopus dumplings, a specialty of Osaka. Remember, Hikaru is drooling at them in chap.7 of the manga (should've been kinder to Akari!)

_Wakajishisen_: the Young Lions Tournament, where top insei meet young pros (_HnG_ vol.7)

_Torii_: the typical Shinto gate that opens on to a sacred place.

_Seimei's shrine_: there are at least two shrines (_jinja_) dedicated to Abe no Seimei (see notes in 1st chapter): the most famous is in Kyoto, the other one in Osaka.

_Inari_: the god of rice, fertility and foxes, one of the most popular in the Shinto pantheon.

_Kitsune_: fox. Japanese folklore and legends abound with them. Most of the time, they are depicted as wicked creatures taking human shape to lure people for fun or lust, but some are nice characters involved in beautiful romances with humans.

_On_-_Myo_: Yin-Yang (a little reminder). I also found the transliteration _inn_-_you_, which may be more accurate, but I'll stick with on-myo to remain consistent with the first chapters.

_Fuusui_: feng shui, Chinese geomancy.

--

This one came lately, sorry again. Now I'm done with the "boring" chapters, I mean, the expository ones (a bit boring for me, not for you, I hope!), let's all have candy and get into the main thing. Especially those who long for a certain bleached guy will see their patience rewarded in the next chapter - it's chapter **5**, after all!

I've decided to remove the "Romance" tag for now, because it's not relevant to the current chapters and I don't want readers to expect things that won't come till much later in the story, and thus be disappointed. Don't worry, it'll be back by the end of the fic!

Thanks again for your reviews, your support and your patience!

Valérien


	5. The Right Path

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning: _spoilers everywhere!

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**5. The Right Path**

* * *

Comfortably settled in a seat of the bullet train flying to Tokyo, Akira was finally able to enjoy three hours alone, his sore legs relaxing from their unusual day-long work, and his brain recollecting the past events.

After their last game in the shrine, Akira and Fuku had quietly walked back to Abenobashi Station. On their path, they met Makoto, Fukui Satoshi's deliveryman, who pulled over as soon as he caught sight of them. He was a twenty-five years old stocky man whose grin was coming as easily as Fuku's. Naturally, he and the plump boy got along very well together. He had warmly shook Akira's hand - a bit too warmly to the Go pro's delicate fingers, then offered to drive them both to Yashiro's place, where Akira had to fetch his things before leaving. Akira had eventually accepted.

The three of them had squeezed up in the front seat of the narrow van, and Makoto had dived straight into the evening traffic, unimpressed like the bold driver he was. While slaloming between the other cars, he had laughed at Fuku's report of the clash between his boss and Akira.

"Incredible, 'wish I was there to watch! No doubt he'll remember you after that," he had told the latter in his thick Kansai accent.

"I don't mind if he remembers me, but I'd rather forget him," Akira had replied, making Makoto laugh louder than ever.

"Nasty old scarecrow, eh? You wonder how people like Onoki-chan can stand him all day long... But when you get to know him better, he's not as bad as he wants to look."

Akira had not commented. Thanks to Makoto's driving skills, they made their way quite quickly. Despite Akira's protest, Fuku and Makoto had waited for him at the foot of the building where Yashiro lived. The 3-dan had even come down with Akira to greet them. He sympathized with Fuku, strongly enjoining him to tell his gramps to get lost - in slightly cruder words. He had not offered any other assistance though. Fuku had just smiled sadly. Later on, Makoto and Fuku had dropped Akira at Shin-Osaka Station, where they all exchanged many thanks. Fuku especially had a hard time bringing himself to the parting. Akira had gave him a few comforting words and promised to say hello "to everybody" from him.

That was an hour ago...

It had been an enjoyable day altogether, save for the unpleasant incident at the shop. Akira wanted to shut out the old master from his memory, and remember Fuku's kindness only. It wasn't easy: the decorator's cutting remarks had stung his professional pride, and Fuku's statements about the alleged nature of the _Kami no itte_ were obsessing him.

It was on that occasion that Akira realized he had never seriously considered the question before. The "divine hand" was something he had always heard about, but never really challenged. Why would he do? His father - the ultimate authority on Go in Akira's eyes - had been searching for it all his life, and never expressed any doubt. He had passed his quest down to his son, along with his knowledge of the game, and Akira had assimilated the whole package without question, even in his early teens, when comes the urge to assert oneself against elders.

It wasn't a matter of blind faith, however. The young man had already _felt_ - almost physically - the shadow of its existence: in his only game against the mysterious Sai, in the ones against the early Shindo... Those were proper fighting Go games, no doubt about it. The perfect game _did _exist, Akira knew it, it only had been eluding him as well as the best players for thousand years. Why should he mind the tripe from an old snake who must never have experienced that shadow the least in his whole life?

Because so was Akira he couldn't ignore an intellectual challenge when it came to him. For that reason, as soon as he's home and despite his tiredness, he began a feverish search in Touya Kouyo's personal library. He skimmed over the wordy essay in which he had read about the astrological roots of the game, but feeling drowsy in the middle of a paragraph, finally made for his futon, a pile of books under his arm.

The following days, he wasn't much around his father's Go salon, spending most of his free time in the _Ki-in_'s huge library, or at home. Of course, Ichikawa instantly noticed and gave a slightly alarmed call to the Touya's residence, but Akira allayed her worries, telling her he was engrossed by a very interesting point about Go history - which was the absolute truth by the way. He promised to drop by the salon soon, and thus gained a couple of days grace.

Despite his efforts, he wasn't the wiser too much. He found a lot of documents about the origins of Go, some fueling the Taoist approach, but none of them making any connection to the _Kami no itte_. On that very subject, the literature turned quite speculative, and invariably stayed within the limits of the formal game.

Akira wasn't luckier online: all the search engines tended to return the same data, often ripped off from the books he had already read. Some links pointed to a successful experiment in Europe with computers on a 5x5 grid. Quite interesting, but extraneous. Finally, a few comments in pro players' blogs, too vague or too irrelevant to help, made Akira wonder whether he should ask his peers or not about the elusive Hand.

The first person he should ask, of course, was his father. But the former Meijin lived most of the time abroad with his wife, officially championing the Beijing Go team, secretly searching the Go world for a hypothetical Sai. Akira was in touch with him once in a week at least, but didn't feel like tackling him about such a topic by phone. An e-mail wouldn't do better, since for all the games the senior player had managed to play online - and there weren't too many of them, he remained ignorant of such a simple way to communicate. In his defense, that kind of blockage was very common of his generation.

On a fine after-game evening, Ogata invited Akira for sushi at a first-class restaurant in the Roppongi area. As they were savoring the overpriced dish, Akira made a few attempts to bring the talk around to the question. The elder pro squinted at the younger one:

"_Kami no itte_? You're already flying this high, Akira-kun?"

"I'm not! I wish I were..." Akira muttered. "I'd like to know your opinion about it, nothing more."

"Ichikawa told me you spend an unusual time in libraries these days. Does it prey so much on your mind?"

Trust Ogata to evade issues and grill you instead.

"There's nothing wrong in doing some research on the side," Akira shrugged. "I thought it was something pros like us could discuss, but if you're not interested, let's talk about something else."

"Right, I may not be interested for now," Ogata said, delicately picking a white tuna between his chopsticks. "I stay focused on reality: the title games, my opponents..." He considered the slice of raw fish like a shark its prey. "... you."

Akira ignored the innuendo.

"Must I understand that, for you, the _Kami no itte_ has no reality?"

Ogata waited for the tuna to sink down his gullet before answering.

"What you must understand, Akira-kun, is that whether it's real or not, it's not my top priority... nor _yours_. When you've got four or five titles and most of your career behind you, like your father, _then_ you'll have the time and skill to study the question. How long have you been a pro?"

Akira kept mute, but Ogata didn't expect any answer: he knew they both knew it.

"Four years, five dan, no title yet," he enumerated. "Nice and steady growth, but quite disappointing considering the expectations we all had. Why don't you throw away that 'promising boy' outfit you've been wearing for so long and fulfill them plainly? Or do you plan to leave it for someone else? Someone more _promising_?"

Akira easily guessed whom Ogata was teasing him with, but as unnerving as the elder pro could be, he didn't fly off the handle. Better let Ogata act superior and not mention the recent loss of his Gosei title to Kurata 8-dan.

"Sorry if I've disappointed you in any way, Ogata-san. I'll try my best next time," Akira replied blankly. _Next time I face you across a goban._

After that night, Akira was about to give up. Ogata wasn't wrong after all, his present career was the most important for now. He paid a last visit to the _Ki-in_'s library however, but he had already exhausted all the material it could provide him. Sitting alone at a table in the public playing room, he was idly trying a few patterns on the board, forcing himself to ignore the logical _joseki_ to build a new type of game. Not too successfully, as an unctuous voice behind him confirmed:

"I think I recognize that game. Last time my six-years-old great-nephew gave me a lesson..."

"Kuwabara-sensei!"

Akira quickly swept the stones out of the board, though he guessed the old man had been watching his "game" for a while.

"I was just... trying... something..." he stammered, flushing like mad.

Kuwabara displayed his usual ape-like smile.

"The son of my great friend Touya must have really cunning plans to win with such moves. That, or victory isn't the purpose."

Akira was boiling in shame, but the old pro's words struck him.

"Kuwabara-sensei... Is the divine hand a winning one?" he asked all of a sudden.

Kuwabara was rarely taken off guard, but Akira's unexpected question got him.

"The divine hand? Is that what you're looking for? Right now?"

_I've already heard that_, Akira winced. He couldn't avoid a bit of explanation if he wanted an effective answer to his question.

"Well, last week in Osaka, I met someone..."

In broad outline, Akira told Kuwabara about what Fuku had expounded him.

The Honinbo title-holder was stroking his chin.

"Hmm, interesting theory...But I suggest you don't spend any more time on that. It's no use for you now, you won't be able to beat anyone with so poor maneuvers, and certainly not me!" he sniggered.

Akira smiled.

"Of course, Kuwabara-sensei, I would insult you if I wasn't using all my strength against you."

"Bwahaha, you'd better do, young Touya, and I'm afraid it won't be enough!" Kuwabara laughed.

He picked up a cigarette and lighted it.

"By the way... Your rival, is he still facing you?" he asked before taking a long drag.

Akira frowned imperceptibly. Why on earth people had to systematically associate him with Shindo? It seemed a real trend these days and it was getting on his nerves.

"Yes..." he moaned reluctantly.

Kuwabara released a satisfied cloud of smoke.

"You needn't worry about the _Kami no itte_, then. You're still on the right path."

* * *

To tell the truth, Akira hadn't faced his rival since his return from Osaka. He had been skipping their usual meetings at his father's salon, but after those useless researches, he decided that it was great time to go back to normal.

One Tuesday evening, he precisely ran into the young 3-dan, impossible to miss in the Ki-in's lobby with his bright yellow T-shirt sporting an umpteenth variation of "5". He was chatting lightly with a smaller boy in khakis - or was it a girl? Getting closer, Akira heard a little squeal answer to Shindo's assurance that "_Okay for tomorrow night!_", and the blush on the small face hidden by half-long hair did not help to clear up Akira's doubt. The young boy - so he turned out to be - blushed even more when he caught sight of him.

"Touya-san..." He bowed mechanically. Then, with a shy smile to Hikaru: "See you tomorrow, sensei!" and he hurried out of the building.

Hikaru waved to him, then greeted his rival with a wide grin.

"Hi Touya, long time no see!"

"_Sensei_?" Akira was still staring at the running boy.

"Yes, from now on, I'm Oka's official master!" Hikaru announced proudly.

"You?"

Touya's incredulous tone was sounding very unpleasantly in Hikaru's ears.

"Yeah, _I_. What does that mean, I'm not good enough to teach?" he asked threateningly.

"I know you're good enough, but isn't that boy an insei?"

"Yes, he is, so what?"

"Well, in his position, you'd rather choose someone more... advanced."

"Like you, I suppose?" Hikaru sniggered.

"Not me either," Akira replied. "I give occasional _shidougo_ lessons, just as you do, but I don't see myself tutoring someone in particular, especially someone who studies to be pro. Not yet."

"Says the guy who's trained an insei throughout his pro exam..." Hikaru sniggered even more.

"That was... erm... exceptional," Akira coughed.

The best way to get him insecure was to drag up a not too glorious chapter of his past deeds.

Still grinning, Hikaru suddenly closed the distance between them, his olive-green eyes pinning the jade-green ones at a mere ten centimeters.

"Exceptional, yeah, just like me!" he whispered as a mock confidence.

Akira nervously stepped back, frowning at that invasion of his personal space.

"Anyway... An insei has better chances of success, studying within a study group, under a 9-dan with decades of experience, don't you think?" he said. "That's what you've done yourself."

"Aha. But you know what Oka told me? '_Shindo-san, I've been watching your games for more than two years now. If I want to be more than the average pro, I need more than an average master. I want to follow the path of a growing _genius.' Hear that?"

Arms folded behind his head, the bleached pro was obviously lapping it up. Akira rolled his eyes.

"He sure knows how to speak to you. I bet he offered to treat you with ramen as well?"

"Not at all!" Hikaru loudly protested. "Hmm, actually yes... But that doesn't change nothing! He's looking for a genius, and you'll notice he's turned to me, not to you!"

_That's getting really childish_, Akira thought, but unconsciously he tuned up himself on the same mood.

"Don't you think he's chosen you for your clothing taste?"

Hikaru glared at him.

"Anything wrong with my gear, Touya? 'Cause I could speak _a lot_ about yours..."

"That wasn't criticism, just comparison. It seems like you both shop at the same stores."

"You must be kidding. Have you looked closely at him?"

"Fortunately yes, otherwise I'd have thought you had a new girlfriend..." Akira replied.

This time, Hikaru longed for something handy to smack Touya's head. The last issue of _Weekly Go_ was already in his backpack, his sacrosanct fan was out of question and somehow, he was reluctant to use his bare hand on Touya. Outraged, he racked the evil part of his brains to find a well-chosen retort.

"You... you're one to talk! Nobody ever told you how sexy you look with this haircut?"

He didn't realize at once what he had just said. Akira's eyes bulged in horrified disbelief.

"That's what _you_ think?"

"Hngg... HECK NO!" Hikaru roared, flushing like mad. _I'll kill you, Touya!_ "What I mean... ahem... whatever."

Better stop before getting into more and more of a mess... Touya looked upset too, so Hikaru could be satisfied with it.

"Anyway, please note I agreed to tutor Oka not because he looks like a pretty girl - he really doesn't and I'm _not_ that kinda guy, 'kay? I agreed because he's pretty good, and he's the most determined to pass pro this year; nearly made it last time. I've nothing to do with cuteys who wouldn't see an atari coming if it bitted their silly butts. See my point, Mr. Bimbo-Magnet?"

He was all too happy to deride Touya's uncontrolled - and largely unexploited - success with womankind.

Akira sighed. He had known Shindo for years, their relationship was running much smoother than before, yet there was still that distance between them, loaded with unspoken thoughts and misunderstandings. Every attempt from either side to fill the gap generally worsened things. For example, when Akira ventured some informal teasing on his rival, whether he had a bad sense of humor or his didn't match Shindo's, he would just succeed in annoying him. The same happened the other way too...

"You know I don't choose my clients..." Akira muttered. "As for your... disciple, if he's as committed as you say, it's okay, I just hope he won't regret his choice."

Hikaru snorted in disdain.

"Since we're talking about masters and study groups, how was the meeting with yours?" Akira asked to ease the atmosphere.

"Fine..." Hikaru uttered without much conviction. "Morishita-sensei invited us all to the restaurant. We were not supposed to speak about Go for once, but of course, he had to broadcast his wishes for everyone of us. Oh, for your information, I'm ordered to beat you in our next official game."

"Good luck."

"Don't laugh, Touya, he so scared me I feel like I gonna cream you this time."

"Really? But if things turn as usual, you can remind your sensei he has yet to beat Father."

"Yeah right, just say you want me dead... Now tell me, what about your trip to Osaka? How's Yashiro doing?" Hikaru asked more eagerly.

"He's doing well. Have you seen the kifu?"

"No, it wasn't even in _Weekly Go_. What the hell those reporters are paid for? I've only heard you won by two moku and a half, and Yashiro gave you a hard time..."

"Not so hard, but still... I'll replay it for you if you want."

"I can't wait to watch that!" Hikaru was recovering his good mood. "By the way, I didn't see you at the salon last time. Ichikawa-san told me you were busy on special studies..."

"Ah, sorry, I should have called you."

"No problem, I played Kitajima-san instead. Gave him a run for his money and for sneering at me all year round. But it must be something really important to make you skip the salon, you're always stuck there!"

Akira ignored the sarcasm.

"I thought it was, but never mind."

"Oh, won't you tell me?" Hikaru insisted, his curiosity naturally aroused by Akira's evasiveness.

"Maybe... someday." Akira replied with a knowing look at his rival. Hikaru pulled a face.

"...'mkay," he grumbled. "So, Thursday 5 PM, as usual?"

"All right. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Instead of the salon, we can meet at my place just as well."

Hikaru looked startled by Akira's sudden offer.

"Is there a problem at the salon?" he asked with slight concern.

"Er... I don't think so. Is there a problem at my house?"

"No... It's just... Well, you don't invite people to come over too often, so I was wondering... Is it I've broken something during our last fight, or maybe Kitajima's waiting for me behind the door with an axe?"

Akira's face darkened.

"You're not funny."

"Hey, honest!" Hikaru asserted. "I guess they're all fed up with our arguments, and you daren't tell me I'm not welcome to the salon anymore?"

"Of course you're welcome," Akira said, slightly blushing. "As for me not inviting people... If you want to know, since there were already a lot of pros coming to play Father, I never had to call anyone," he muttered as an excuse. "Now he's in China with Mother, that's different. Ogata-san and Ashiwara-san already drop by from time to time, so I thought you..."

"No problem," Hikaru cut with a grin. "Just give me a proper map so I don't get lost like the first time with Yashiro."

"What? You don't remember?"

"Touya, it was _two years_ ago!"

"All right..." Akira sighed. "But if you get lost after that, you'll have to draw the right conclusions and admit you're not able to read a map."

"It's not my fault if the one you made then was incorrect."

"Yashiro and I have talked about it recently, and he confirmed it was your fault and not that of my map."

"Liars!"

"OK, no map, I'll wait for you at the station!" Akira decided abruptly. "Remember where to get off, at least?"

"..."

* * *

Fortunately, Hikaru was not so thick he wouldn't remember a single station name. The two boys met without problem on the platform that Thursday afternoon.

In an effort of casualness, Akira wore a green polo shirt with the upper button undone, and a pair of light blue jeans. Hikaru was his usual self, black Bermudas beneath a white T-shirt with orange sleeves and a flashy brand spread on the back. The distance between the station and Touya's residence was rather short, but they took their time, lazily strolling and conversing under the hot sun.

"Yashiro's not fair, I wanted to go to Osaka too!" Hikaru groaned. "I had my Monday free as well, so I'd have come with you guys to visit the city."

"Yashiro had a game that day."

"Oh, so you were on your own..."

"In the morning, yes. But your friend Fukui guided me for the rest of the day."

Hikaru goggled at Akira.

"Fuku! You've seen Fuku?"

"I met him at the end of the Festival. He offered to show me a few sites on his free time."

"Wow, and you accepted?"

Hikaru would hardly be more stunned if Touya told him he had done a bit of skateboarding there.

"Yes, why not?" Akira replied. He made no mention of Yashiro's involvement in the matter, Shindo's smile was irritating enough. "What again?"

Hikaru couldn't resist anymore and gave a friendly slap on his rival's back.

"Finally, you're socializing!"

"Idiot." Akira hated it when Shindo got this familiar.

"So Fuku, what's he up to?" Hikaru continued merrily.

"He lives in Osaka and despairs of playing Go."

"Ah yes, Waya told me he quit the insei last year. Too bad... So he's in Osaka now? What's he doing there?"

Akira gave a short report of Fuku's situation, with an especially unflattering picture of the grandfather. Hikaru looked really sorry for his friend:

"Poor Fuku, stuck in Geezerland..." He suddenly hit his left palm with his right fist. "Touya, let's form a squad with Yashiro to rescue him!"

"Rescue him to where?" Akira replied. "From what he told me, I reckon his opportunities here in Tokyo are scarce. His only chance of making it was to become pro, and he's given up. Will you make him pass?"

Hikaru shrugged.

"As far as I'm concerned, they can turn the whole Class One into pros, I'd be fine to play them all again."

"Then the _Ki-in_ would have to pay them all and they're not that rich. Unless you're willing to share a part of your appointments... they're not too high for the moment."

Instantly, Akira was aware of his light mocking falling wrong - once again. He didn't wait long for the unavoidable retort.

"So we're playing for money now, Touya?"

The words and the olive orbs were sending a vibrant reproach to the younger pro, who should have known better. Akira looked away, blushing.

"No, we're not." He gulped. "_Gomen nasai_."

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**NOTES:**

_"a successful experiment in Europe"_: performed in 2002. Erik van der Werf, a CS researcher at the university of Maastricht (Netherlands), wrote a program that successfully solved 5x5 Go. His work has resulted in a thesis about AI techniques applied to the game of Go.

_Oka_: for those who've not read the last HnG offshots published in Jump, Oka is a young insei boy (though he looks a bit girlish...), and a strong Akira fan, while his rival Shouji (a boy for sure) thinks Hikaru's better. In the first round of the Young Lions Tournament, Oka has to face Hikaru, and Shouji, Akira. Of course, they're both crushed, and they both change their mind about who's their preferred champion - so in the end they never agree and keep squabbling like good rivals! _(August 2006 edit: I'm ashamed to say that for several months and a couple of chapters in this fic, Oka has actually been a _girl _- see notes in chapter 7)_

--

First, sorry for the overdue chapter. Since it was a part I've been devising for long, I naively thought words would come easily under my fingers. Actually, too much thinking up can leave you paralyzed, especially when you want something as important as Hikaru's return to be great and enjoyable.

This chapter wasn't supposed to end on this, you may even think it's a bit short compared to the previous ones, but watching the file steadily inflating up to 50 KB made me rethink my script. Don't worry, I won't push the cliffie too long.

Once again, thank you all for your reviews and the interest you express in this story, _Murgatroyd_, _mika_, _Ishkabod_ (a long time supporter, thanks!), _therhoda_, _Catwho_, _Coiling Death_, _Precognition74_. When I don't have time or I don't feel like working on the fic (sorry, that happens too!), your support reminds me I have a work in progress that needs a conclusion. That's the commitment I made when I started this fic.

Valérien


	6. The God Game

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning: _spoilers everywhere!

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**6. The God Game**

* * *

After they left their shoes in the spacious _genkan_ of Touya's mansion, Akira ushered his guest into the living-room. 

It had not changed a bit since Hikaru's last visit: the same low table in the middle of the room, surrounded by a few pieces of furniture neatly arranged on the tatamis with almost painful perfection. Even the black flat screen of the TV set didn't look out of place amidst the traditional stuff. Hikaru imagined the Touyas watching it, sitting _seiza_ on thin cushions, and the mere idea made him shudder.

"What's the matter, Shindo?"

"What?"

"You're just gaping around like it's the first time you come here."

"Once again, Touya, it was two years ago. Besides, we were so engrossed by our training for the Cup that I hadn't even time to admire your home."

"Admire as much as you like, but don't let your backpack right in the middle of the room," Akira said, shifting the bag to the side. "There, it won't lie in the way."

"Yes, Mom."

It was Akira's turn to feel in need of some smacking tool. Finding nothing at hand, just like Shindo the other day, he just moved to the screen doors and pushed them open briskly. Light, warm air, and the buzz of cicadas invaded the dark room.

One thing Shindo had not really noticed the first time was the enchantment of the garden. As strictly arranged as the rest of the house, it gave nonetheless a very relaxing impression, undisturbed by the distant drone of the city. That peaceful ambience was only punctuated by the periodic clack of the _shishiodoshi_ on its stone base.

"Wow!" Hikaru let out. He stepped outside onto the veranda, looking around in awe. "I've already seen Zen gardens, but none as cool as yours!"

_You mustn't have seen a lot of those, then_. But Shindo's praise sounded so sincere that Akira kept his snide comment for himself and brightened up.

"That's partly what I had in mind when I suggested to play here," he said modestly. "Actually, it's not as _cool_ as the salon with the AC, of course, but..."

"You kidding? It's way cooler here! Playing on tatamis with a sight on that garden! It's _Yugen no ma_ without the tension and the camera. I guess your father always plays here, I mean, when he's home?"

"Actually he plays in his own study room next to this one, which also opens on to the yard," Akira explained, pointing to shut screens on the left side. "There he keeps all his books and kifu. I've often watched him recreate a game under the sole light of the moon."

"_Sugoi_!" Hikaru marvelled. "Let's play under the moon tonight, Touya!"

"Er... I don't mind you staying over, Shindo, but last night was moonless and so is the coming one..."

"Nothing's perfect..." Hikaru moaned, disappointed. "OK, call me back in two weeks."

He suddenly crouched down on the edge of the wooden platform.

"Look, there are living carps in the pond! Haha, thinking of it, the guys at the _Ki-in_ can't even afford real fishes in their lobby!"

Akira couldn't help smiling, watching Shindo enthused over things he was himself too accustomed to. He went to his room to fetch his personal goban. When he came back to set it by the open screen, the other boy was lying face down over the pond, a whole forearm stirring the water, seeking coolness or a fine catch, Akira didn't know.

"Those are not to eat," he said before Shindo planned a more thorough dive. "If our games last up to dinner, I have a whole plate of sashimi left in the fridge. But sorry, I forgot you don't like..." he added mockingly.

"Sashimi are fine for me," Hikaru corrected at once. "Ramen's better, of course, but don't worry, I won't watch you eat alone!"

He ran his wet arm against his forehead in a vain attempt to cool down a bit, then crawled back lazily to the living-room where Akira and the goban were waiting for him.

"Phew, so hot!" Hikaru sighed. "Lucky fishes... Why don't your parents dig a pool instead of this shallow pond? I'm not too keen on baths, but today..."

"A pool in a Zen garden, I dare not imagine!" Akira smirked.

"I don't care if they make it Zen style. I even agree to share it with the carps, for that matter."

"Will the carps agree, that's the question."

"Carps don't speak so we'll never now, and I won't ask their permission anyway," Hikaru concluded. "Now, why don't you show me Yashiro's current strength?"

Akira nodded and started recreating his game against the 3-dan. For half an hour, the two pros discussed it - in their usual way:

"How could you start a _ko_ fight without removing the double threat first? Everybody _knows_ that!"

"As if you'd have seen it! You mistook it for a simple _miai_ as well!"

"Because here I'm all cool and relaxed. In the real game, I wouldn't have missed it! And _you_ shouldn't have either!"

"And _you_ shouldn't bring forward your 'when-I-play-seriously' so often, it's way too easy!"

After a few more heated retorts, they agreed Yashiro had played a really cunning and deceiving sequence. The temperature was helping a lot in their calming down.

"Man, I'm dripping," Hikaru groaned, wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt.

Akira stood up.

"I'll get us drinks. What would you like?"

"Oh great! Anything as long as it's icy."

Akira slipped into the kitchen. He came back soon with two glasses on a tray and a bottle of ice tea. One of the glasses was intently half-filled with a good load of ice cubes. Akira put it next to his guest, who was now lying on his back, his belly carelessly exposed.

"Is it icy enough?"

"Aah, _sankyuu_!" Hikaru greeted gratefully.

He sat up again while Akira was pouring the ice tea, and somehow managed to hold himself long enough until his rival's glass was filled too. Then, "Cheers!" and he gulped his down with visible relief.

"Ah, I feel better now, you're a life savior, Touya."

Akira didn't answer and just swallowed a mere couple of sips. Hikaru looked again at the goban.

"Too bad they've stopped the Hokuto Cup," he said longingly. "Just because our stupid sponsor has suddenly decided to withdraw."

"It can't be helped, Shindo. That kind of international event costs a lot in management and logistics. Since Hokuto's buyout last year, I've heard that the new shareholders aren't eager to spend more money on this."

"But the previous tournaments both had good audience, they _had_ to make a third one!" Hikaru retorted.

Akira smiled.

"You still have your revenge against Ko Yongha to take, haven't you?"

Hikaru smiled too.

"Yeah. That, and..."

"And?"

Hikaru remained silent for a while, pensively sucking on an ice-cube.

"I miss the feeling of playing with you guys by my sides..." he muttered eventually. "Though it's not really true, with the separate tables and all the TV stuff. But fighting, yunno, as a team, just like the..."

Hikaru trailed off. He was about to evoke the Junior High Go tournaments, but even though he had fond memories of them, the bitterness of the third game against Akira had never completely subsided. For his rival, it was probably even worse, so he quickly drifted the conversation.

"Our friend Yashiro has become a dangerous guy. If you don't watch out, he may grab a title before you do."

"If _we_ don't watch out," Akira corrected, a bit confused by Shindo's behavior. "I always do."

"That's why you were haunting the libraries these days? Looking for new strategies?"

"Not at all. It has nothing to do with that."

"What was it all about then?"

Akira sighed. He should have known Shindo wouldn't let go like that.

"If you really want to know, I was interested in the historical and philosophical roots of Go... especially its connections with Taoism."

Hikaru's eyes bulged.

"_Daoism_?" He was hearing the word for the first time.

"Er... as you wish," Akira said, misunderstanding Shindo's reaction, thus making his rival even more puzzled. Hikaru's brain used to phase out on such odd words, but for once, he was decided to go further.

"So... This has to do with the history of Go..."

"... and its philosophy," Akira completed.

Hikaru took a moment, ruminating over his next question.

"In all your studies... d'you know by chance anything about Go in the Heian era?"

Now Akira was the puzzled one. Since when was Shindo interested in history?

"He- Heian?"

"Yeah, yunno, the time before the Shoguns, when-"

"I know when it is, thanks!" Akira cut sternly.

"Well, fine, but no need to get all worked up like that!" Hikaru replied at once.

"I'm not worked up!" Akira shouted. Then blushed. Then took a good breath. "...now."

Hikaru shrugged.

"I'm just asking."

"What does interest you about the Heian, anyway?"

"I told you: Go!"

"But why in the Heian?"

"Why not!" Hikaru shouted.

Akira noticed the uneasiness was changing sides.

"You're the one getting worked up."

Hikaru blushed.

"It's your fault..." he grumbled.

Akira was much tempted to push him further, but he was already foreseeing a furious exit that would make this meeting barely different from the others at the salon.

"I haven't got much to tell about Heian Go," he said at last. "The roots of the game are more ancient, and are located in China."

There was a short moment of silence, when Akira nearly expected Shindo to drift into another subject naturally. Outside of the game though, Akira's expectations about Shindo rarely held water.

"The roots of the game..." Hikaru repeated dreamily. "I wonder how the game was in the beginning. D'you know something about that?"

Akira shook his head. That was precisely the question he was trying to avoid.

"Only suppositions. Some say it was... quite different."

_Please don't ask how._

"How different?"

Akira sighed.

"I think it would take too much time to explain..."

"Hey!" Hikaru yelled. "Don't talk to me like I'm a complete moron! Maybe I'm not as cultured as you are, but everything about Go, I _can_ understand!"

"I didn't mean you're a moron, I just thought you'd be bored!"

"You think wrong, I'm very interested! So feel free to put your airs aside and take your time to explain the Da...Da'ism stuff."

"My airs? What the-"

"_I'm listening!_" Hikaru cut, staring straight at Akira.

For the hundred-and-sixteenth time (at least), Akira reckoned Shindo could be _really_ exasperating.

Yet... maybe this was the opportunity to have a last shot at Fuku's theory? Akira's last encounter with Kuwabara sure got him cold feet, but perhaps it might not look so weird to a wacky guy like Shindo... Well, he just had to be extra-careful not to mention the _Kami no itte_. Actually, it would do better if he didn't explain anything. How could he manage to do that?

"As I said, they're just suppositions, of which I don't think much" (useful remark) "but since you're here and you've brought it up, well... why don't we check this together on the goban?"

That was the best plan he had found...

"Right now? Don't you want to explain the whole thing before?"

Akira realized how hard it was to make Shindo act according to his own plans - to anybody's plans altogether. He had known him long enough to grasp the uselessness of bossy talk against him. For Akira who had been raised to respect authority, it was quite unnerving. He wasn't prone to admit it, but it fascinated him too. So, for the moment, he had no choice but to remain flexible and negotiate carefully. A downright application of what he had read about Taoism...

"Look, if I try to tell you the whole thing, as you say, we're not done before tomorrow morning... Not because you're stupid" - he promptly added - "but you know I've spent days and days in the books, so you can imagine how much I'd have to tell. Actually, the thing is, I don't even know how to begin with... So I guess the best start is here, on the goban. Of course, it's not really the Go we're used to play, but it also needs two players, preferably of equal strength if we want it to be fairly tested..."

Akira didn't think his little speech was very convincing, but the words "equal strength" had already pushed the right buttons on his rival.

"Okay, okay, let's see that," Hikaru said, straightening up again in front of the goban.

Akira nodded and put down a stone. It was better to play first and lead the game, especially when exploring unknown territories...

It all began quite classically, until Hikaru threatened Akira's left _moyo_. Then, instead of reinforcing it, Akira chose to put his stone on the other side, in a symmetrical way. Hikaru almost gasped on this, but Akira didn't react, as if nothing was wrong. So they continued, and soon, Hikaru noticed his rival repeatedly failed to answer his hands, making instead what were - in his own sense and that of any decent player - highly preposterous moves.

Several times, he threw interrogative glances at Akira, but the 5-dan just kept focused on the board, thoughtfully building his next erratic sequence. After fifteen minutes, Hikaru was about to explode and shout at Akira to stop that nonsense. Yet he didn't. As silly as it seemed, it _had_ to be something serious, because Touya was _always_ serious about everything he was doing.

Thus they managed to fill two thirds of the board until Akira relented:

"Let's stop. As I guessed, it doesn't make sense at all."

Hikaru looked at the board. Indeed, by the terms of the real game, he had crushed Touya more severely than when he was playing Sai's hands.

"Maybe it'd make sense if you explained a bit what you're up to?" he said, scratching his head. "You can't honestly believe the first Go players used to play like that, can you?"

Akira shook his head. He had no intention of spilling the beans to Shindo; telling Kuwabara had been embarrassing enough.

"Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, it's not important. Another drink?" he asked, picking the bottle.

He interpreted Shindo's vague nod as an approval, hoping to wash the whole subject away in the same time. Ill-fated hope, his behavior was much too dismissive not to be suspicious. Ignoring the refilled glass of ice-tea, Hikaru removed the stones from the board back to a certain stage, then raised concerned eyes toward Akira.

"Here, it's my turn. What d'you expect me to play now?"

"I told you it doesn't make sense. Can't you understand?" Akira retorted, his exasperation rising fast.

"Come on, Touya!" Hikaru protested. "You say it doesn't make sense, but you were very serious playing those stupid hands. I want to understand why!"

"There's nothing to understand! How many times must I repeat..."

Fortunately, the phone ring resounding from the far end of the room interrupted a dialog once again going sour.

"Excuse me," Akira said, striding to the receiver and pretending he was not especially happy about the excuse.

Meanwhile, Hikaru started to replay the so-called game, striving to find Touya's intention behind the hands. He didn't had a clue. All of them were so _unlike _Touya he wouldn't have believed they had been played by his rival had he not watched it himself.

Actually, they reminded him of someone else... Someone much younger, much smaller too - lost in a junior high uniform way too large for him. Someone who used to hold stones between his thumb and forefinger, who totally ignored what was really at stake in the game, more interested by the small private universe he was building on the board, and cockily declaring to a scandalized Kaga - and a bewildered Sai: "_On this goban, I'm going to become god!_"

Someone he - and Sai - knew _very_ well.

_It can't be... _

Incredulous, he was gaping at Touya coming back after what sounded like intensive negotiations on the phone.

"It's Ichikawa-san," Akira sighed. "Looks like I've missed the salon once too often... Uh? What's the matter?"

"Touya..." Hikaru began, half chuckling, "...don't tell me... you want to play _god_?"

"Ah..."

Completely taken aback, Akira couldn't find a properer answer, but his flushed face was enough to send Hikaru rolling on the tatamis, shaken by a roar of laughter.

Mortified, the other pro quickly gathered the bottle and glasses on the tray and took everything to the kitchen, where he shut himself in, while Hikaru's mirth was growing wilder.

* * *

Leaning over the sink, Akira was furiously washing the same glass over and over again. 

_I knew it! How could I believe playing Shindo would help me find an answer? What was I imagining? Why can't I just SHUT UP!_

Of course, he wasn't looking seriously for an actual answer to those questions. He was much more concerned with the near future looming up: now he had completely made a fool of himself before Shindo, he just had to prepare himself to be the laughing stock of the Tokyo Ki-in first, then of the whole Go world. Oh great!

Maybe it had already begun? What if Kuwabara had gossiped about him all around, and Shindo heard something of it? Then all that prying into his personal activities may had been nothing but a trick to worm a confirmation out of him. Why would he have mentioned the god game otherwise? In his disarray, Akira was already picturing a wide-scale conspiracy aimed against his reputation.

He heard the screen door slide, as Shindo, whose fit of giggles had finally calmed down, went in. It was not unexpected since Akira had been staying in the kitchen for more than ten minutes, nonetheless the long-haired boy felt outraged by the intrusion. He was still washing the glass, ready to throw it at _anybody_, if _anybody_ dared laugh again.

Hikaru though just leant his butt upon the edge of the worktop next to the sink. Akira was still focused on the overclean glass, but he could guess from the corner of his eye the mocking grin plastered on his rival's face.

"You miss that, don't you?"

The soft tone surprised Akira. He stopped his senseless cleaning and raised his stare upon Shindo, who was actually grinning, but not in the way Akira expected.

"... M-miss what?" he mumbled.

Shindo's head jerked toward the living-room.

"That. Making fun of the game. That's something you've craved to do for long, _nee_?"

For a couple of seconds, Akira couldn't trust his own ears.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know, Touya, I totally understand you on this one. I went through that stage when I was twelve, so I..."

"Stop that, Shindo!" Akira shouted. "I'm not twelve and..."

"And you're too proud to admit. But Touya, that's not so big a deal, I mean, it's _normal_!"

Akira flushed again, and the flood of his anger made him unable to retort.

"You couldn't do it so far, living under the eyes of a scary dad - yeah, your father's awesome, but you can't deny he's scary! Now he's gone far away, you just have to get this out of your system, it's that simple!"

Akira couldn't decide which was the most insulting: Shindo laughing at him, or Shindo pretending to coax him in order - so Akira thought - to humiliate him completely.

_So, that's your way of making me lose my face?_

The most incredible was that innocence Shindo displayed as he was ranting on... as if he really meant what he said. Akira knew his rival was not a very good actor, and much to his horror, he had to conclude that, yes, Shindo _did_ believe he was some kind of a late transgressive child.

"Shindo..." he snarled, his voice shivering. "As much as you imagine things, I won't let you call my respect for the game into question! How can you doubt..."

"But I don't!" Hikaru cut. "I've never doubted your respect for the game, Touya. That's the first thing I've learned from you, remember?"

Everything in his eyes and his voice conveyed the pure accent of truth, that unsettled poor Akira even more.

"Yet, you..."

"Yet I think there's that guy deep within you, who'd like to have a little bit of fun sometimes. But you never let him show up, even less get what he wants. So now he wants fun so badly that he makes you act weirdly!"

Akira's face was beyond crimson, soon it would turn into a worrying purple.

"I'm not acting wei-"

"You can put this glass down, I think it's clean now," Hikaru winked.

Akira looked at the glass, then nearly smashed it into the sink.

"Hey, no need to get mad because your complicated plan goes awry!"

Akira swiveled around to glare at him.

"_My_ complicated plan?"

_What about _yours! Akira still held on to the conspiracy theory.

"Yeah, the one you've made up just to get me into your little god game. First, instead of the salon, you invite me in your house where there's nobody to interfere. Then, you bring up the ancient Go stuff..."

"_You_ brought it up! _You _wanted to know about my studies!" Akira bellowed.

"OK, I brought it up and you seized the opportunity to bring your agenda in!"

"Oh, you're so wrong!" Akira whined. Shindo was turning him crazy.

"The question is, why me?" Hikaru continued, undisturbed. "Oh, I bet you thought, '_Shindo's so loony l can act funny and he won't get a clue._' Well, too bad..."

Akira gritted his teeth, because Shindo was not so wrong now.

"But you know, Touya, I'm not upset about that. Actually, I'm flattered you've chosen me..."

Now, a desperate Akira was covering his face with his hands.

"This was a mistake, from the beginning," he muttered feebly.

"No, it wasn't!" Hikaru protested. "You _did_ choose the right guy! Because wherever there's fun to have, I'm in, no matter how strange it is! So next time you want extra-entertainment, just ask me plainly: '_Shindo, let's have fun now!_' And no need to resort to Maoism or whatever."

As much angry as Akira was, he couldn't do but let out a chuckle. This whole conversation was so silly!

"There you go!" Hikaru grinned. "Now why don't we replay this god game, since I finally understand the rules? Come on!"

Before Akira could reply, he felt a brotherly arm sling around his shoulders, gently pushing him back to the living-room. So intense was the shock he didn't try to resist, and he let the older boy guide him out of the kitchen, all stumbling.

"You're still totally wrong," he muttered. "Those were real studies. And I didn't invite you here because I... I..."

After such an emotional surge, he felt unable to speak coherently.

Hikaru let go of Akira, and they were now sitting again by either side of the goban. Akira was trying hard not to shake, but his present turmoil was not an easy feeling to hide.

"It doesn't matter, Touya," Hikaru gently replied. "You can keep on with the serious guy act, but now I've finally understood what you need, believe me, I won't fail you on this."

Akira shook his head. Everything he could say was useless, Shindo had already made his mind.

"All right," he said. "Believe what you want to believe, but I forbid you to spread that silly theory of yours around, or else..."

Hikaru smiled.

"Or else what?"

Akira's eyes blazed.

"That stupid game will be the last we ever play together, officially or not!"

Hikaru sighed.

"Oh no, back to your old ways again... Touya, you really need to loosen up. And I mean, _really_. You don't want me to blab about you? All right, that had never been my intention."

"Thanks," Akira replied dryly.

"You're welcome, nobody would believe me anyway," Hikaru smirked, as Akira was again looking daggers at him. "At least, Touya, you sure have taken a weight off my mind today."

"Oh, have I?"

Hikaru nodded.

"I can tell you now, all these years, I've been trying like mad to get as serious as you are, because I thought I would reach your strength that way. I was really obsessed by that."

"I didn't notice," Akira replied, uncredulous.

"Of course, I'd never tell _you_! But you can ask Waya or Isumi-san."

That confession didn't help in appeasing Akira. Hikaru's acknowledgement of his strength should have pleased him, but he couldn't avoid a twinge of jealousy because Hikaru would confide this to his friends before - even though Akira knew he shouldn't expect otherwise.

"I'll leave it to your word," Akira replied. "So, must I understand you're not obsessed anymore?"

"Now I've discovered your not-so-serious side, I feel relieved!" Hikaru grinned. "So will my Mom, after whinging about my lack of concern for so many years, now she begins to think I should slow down a bit on Go. Hahaha, can you imagine that?"

"Is that your plan? Slow down a bit?" Akira asked in a frightening whisper. "In the middle of the competition?"

Hikaru took a long, appreciative stare at him.

"Ah, the scary look! No matter how much I try, I can't beat you on this, you and your dad are undisputed champions!"

"Stop mocking me!" Akira yelled.

"Hey, take it as a compliment! This is a formidable weapon you have; I'd like to put the wind up my opponents before the game begins, as you do."

Actually, Hikaru had his own reputation on the matter, though not as established as Akira's, but he never seemed aware of it.

"Then let me tell you it's useless, if you feel cocky enough to release the pressure!" Akira snapped.

"Don't worry, I'm not cocky and I won't release the pressure... especially against you. You're still scary, yunno?" Hikaru winked.

"Liar."

"Why liar?"

Akira stared at him.

"You've never been scared of me."

"You kidding..." Hikaru moaned, remembering every creepy time Touya had appeared out of nowhere in front of him.

"What about our very first game then?"

Hikaru looked away, blushing. Akira was hitting right on the sensitive spot, the point whence Hikaru would invariably retreat into his shell. Though intensely curious about Shindo's _mystery_, Akira had always been careful to avoid the subject. Shindo said he would tell him some day. Though it wasn't a formal promise, Akira was patiently waiting, and Hikaru appreciated this tacit agreement. Yet after what he had just endured, Akira quickly threw his scruples away.

"Would you say you were scared that time?" he asked defiantly.

He could literally watch the pressure rising in his rival. _Fair enough_, he thought. After a moment of nervous twitching, Hikaru raised serious eyes.

"If you talk about _our_ very first game, yes, I was scared as hell... scared and very eager too."

Akira clenched his fists. Shindo was eluding, as usual, but he was not going to let him get away with it.

"And what about our very first _meeting_?"

This time, Hikaru didn't answer, and his stare lowered again. Akira had him cornered, and for a moment, he nearly thought the long-expected revelation close to come out.

But Hikaru resolutely kept his lips shut tight, and Akira knew his rival well enough to see breakdown coming instead, that would shatter everything the two of them had been slowly building along the years. As vexing as Shindo had been this afternoon, Akira didn't want that to happen at any price. He wouldn't let go without knocking a last nail though.

"Sooner or later you'll have to tell me, Shindo. About my first games with you and _Sai_."

Hikaru took the blow, and kept mute. Akira noticed the creeping sadness that had flooded the usually cheerful face, and he suddenly felt the urge to dispel that shadow.

"OK, you won't tell me now," he said quickly, "so I tell you: the first time we met, you were not scared the least by me... and I liked that."

Hikaru rose his head, wide-eyed. Akira's tone still sounded defiant, but a subtle curling in the corner of his lips confirmed his unexpected declaration. Hikaru brightened, then laughed.

"I like it when you're scary," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Akira smiled.

"Idiot."

And that was all. They didn't resume the so-called god game, but started a normal Go one. As they were walking the familiar path of the stones, their minds slowly recovered peace.

After this memorable afternoon, they both had good reasons to be glad: Hikaru had kept his secret, and so had Akira, since Hikaru so conveniently misunderstood his. Moreover, Hikaru had found new interesting traits in Akira's personality, that he was impatient to explore further.

For his part, Akira merely wanted to clear everything off his mind, from the various _Kami no itte_ theories to Shindo's stupid imaginings, and definitely turn the page. He was now confident that everything would go back to normal, starting with the sane competition against his rival.

He was wrong. After so many years of uncertainty in their relationship, Hikaru had finally smashed his way through several layers of ice in one go. It had been a painful experience for Akira, but now he was able to feel a new warmth that had nothing to do with the summer heat.

There was no turning back, and for both of them, everything began here.

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**NOTES:**

_Genkan_: the place right after the entrance door in a Japanese house, where people leave their shoes.

_Shishiodoshi_: a water-filled bamboo tube which clacks against a stone when emptied. Originally used to scare animals from the cultivated fields (thus the name "_threatening a deer_"), it's now a common piece of visual and aural ornamentation.

_Sugoi_: wonderful, amazing. I try to refrain from inserting too many of those Japanese idioms in the fic, but tell me if I grow slack!

_Yugen no ma_: The "Room of Profound Darkness/Artistic Inspiration" in the Nihon Ki-in (_HnG_ vol. 6, chap. 47).

_Miai_: an alternative in the game, where two positions are equally playable by white or black without benefiting (at first) one or the other. I have little idea to what extent miai can be confused with ko threats, especially by pros of Akira and Hikaru's stature. It may be even more preposterous than Akira's god play, in which case the miserable ignorant I am begs for merciful oblivion.

_Sankyuu_: need I translate?

_Taoism/Daoism_: both terms are correct, though _pinyin_-abiding people prefer the second one. In Japanese, it's _doukyou_, so the lousy puns in this chapter are mostly irrelevant. We'll just assume our two preferred rivals have found equivalent ones in their own language!

--

My, my, six months to publish a single chapter! You have every right to blame me. In my defense, I'll just say that, as much as I love making those two bicker endlessly, I had a hell of a time making the last piece of dialog coherent and IC. Same problem as in the previous chapter: many ideas flying, hardly holding together when stuck on the page. Oh, you can blame Zelda too (not my girlfriend, but the insanely addictive game from Nintendo).

I'll try to make up for this by spending time with each of you, gentle reviewers of chapter 5:

_Aeris_: your extended review is so rewarding I feel all the more ashamed of my procrastination. Don't worry about shonen-ai, as I've already written, it never goes much beyond what you can all have a glimpse of in this chapter.

_Fayalargo Winterwoelfin_: "informative as well as funny and well-written" is the delicate balance I try to maintain chapter after chapter, so your support is much welcome!

_inu-youkai 911_: thank you for including this fic in your favs! Makes me think I should start to fill my own lists...

_therhoda_: I haven't told you yet, but I appreciate a lot your regular reviewing. I hope you like this chapter. Sorry again for the cliffies and my starving Muse!

_stareater22_: yes, Igo is almost a character in HnG, that I try to insert as often as possible in my fics, though my 72 kyu level doesn't help (OK, that's not possible). Since you talk about it, I've recently watched _Onmyoji 2_, didn't like it as much as the first one, though.

_Troy Thomas_: I'm glad you enjoyed, I'll make my best for the following chapters.

_Rebbi_: I have a real problem with Oka's gender. Every English translation I find tend to assume she's a girl. I'm not certain of their reliability, since Obata-sama has drawn the character with so many boyish features. In the end, considering that girls in HnG are way too scarce (especially pretty girls, but I'm afraid Oka is of little help on this...), and that I don't want an all-male master/disciple relationship, my choice is made. So, if Oka's a boy, well, too bad for him! _(August 2006 edit: quite bold of me - see notes in chapter 7)_  
By the way, hope to read you soon!

_Pamreg_: yes, I've committed and I hereby commit myself again to finishing this story if God lends me life. Thanks for reminding me!

And thanks again to all of you, readers and reviewers, chapter seven is on its way!

Valérien


	7. Studies

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning: _spoilers everywhere! (mild language?)

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**7. Studies**

* * *

Still, it began slowly. 

For boys out of the school system, summer didn't imply vacation anymore. The official games and peripheral but mandatory activities - teaching sessions, game recording, study groups and whatnot - constantly cluttered their schedules up.

Akira had always been a busy person, so it made no difference. Nevertheless, he managed to set aside a few hours so he could attend his father's Go club and put everybody's mind at ease, beginning with Ichikawa Harumi, as he was such a source of concern to the young maid:

"Akira, you really don't need help at home? I doubt you have time enough to take care of yourself..."

"Don't worry, Ichikawa-san, I'm fine," Akira smiled. "You're already doing so much for me..."

And Ichikawa's protests to ensue for ten minutes, but she was relieved to see her protégé in relatively good condition, after all the rumors depicting him as a deaf ghost haunting dusty libraries.

Hikaru had now to devote every Wednesday evening to his new disciple. Not that he considered it a chore: Oka was himself deeply invested into his main goal, the upcoming pro exam, and their games were full of intensity. In addition, Oka's mother always supplemented his teacher fee with a bowl of home-made ramen that sent the soup connoisseur to heaven. The whole family got quickly fond of Hikaru, and they expressed it with so many kind gestures of the sort he felt compelled to give the best of himself. Needless to say, he was taking his master role very seriously.

Thus, the two rivals had no time left to meet more often in the week, but that did not mean they were meeting less, and next Thursday saw them together again, as usual. The choice of the day was no accident: in the morning, they had promotion tournament games against higher dan holders. Those were perfect subjects for replay and discussion, which they used to hold every week for a couple of hours - that is, until Hikaru lose his temper.

The first obvious change in their routine was the meeting place: instead of the salon, the 3-dan now headed straight to Touya's house, without the need of any map or Akira's lead anymore. There was no need for any prior agreement either. Hikaru liked to play Go in the traditional interior - despite not being a traditional guy himself. Akira liked Hikaru's Go in his austere home. Of course, it still had to begin with Go.

They would first review their morning games, with an equal amount of technical comments and cracks to each other. About the latter, it is interesting to notice that their nature had subtly changed: from blunt probes designed for the continuous evaluation of one's level of esteem in the other's mind, they had become obligatory lines in a comedy they rehearsed every week - with less and less conviction, since they abandoned their main audience, the patrons at Touya's Go salon.

Subconsciously, they knew they had soon to put an end to that _Manzai_ play, and act more maturely. They were both to turn eighteen this year, after all. Though still childish on certain fields, Hikaru as an elder made the first moves, resolute in his quest for "the true guy inside Touya".

One day, the two boys were having their after-discussion ice-tea pause in Touya's living-room, when Hikaru introduced what he would call their "studies".

"What do you mean by that?" asked Akira, who had already a bad feeling about it.

"Yunno, when we played that god game-"

"Ah no, not again!" Akira shouted, furious.

"Okay, okay!" Hikaru replied, soothingly flapping his hand. "Don't worry, I won't take you into another one - that was funny though! Anyway... I've been thinking it over all week, and in the end, I must say it wasn't a bad idea you had..."

"Maybe for you, not for me!" Akira snapped.

"Will you let me finish? Thanks. So I was thinking, OK, we're pros and all that, yet..." (Hikaru raised a solemn finger) "do we really know the game?"

"I hope so, in our position, it'd be about time!"

"Yeah, play the smart one, but just think about how people learn Go. Once they know the rules, they study joseki, then kifu of master games, so they try to follow the path of skilled players."

"Sure, and sometimes they even play."

Hikaru ignored the sarcasm.

"Yes, they play. They play like they've been told to: don't play there, this shape is bad; when your opponent play this, answer with that, and so on..."

"So what? You need that to improve quickly. If every new player had to rediscover the common tricks of the game through mistakes, we wouldn't have many champions. Go is like a science, it builds up on layers of knowledge..."

Hikaru shook his head.

"Touya, please! I know that, I'm not stupid, and that's not my point."

"So please get to the point," Akira sighed.

"I agree we can trust our manual when it tells us to stretch from a _kosumi-tsuke_. When it says that _akisankaku_ are always bad shapes that must not be played, I'd say it's not so obvious..."

"You refer to your game against Tsukimaki 4-dan? Indeed, you took a vital point with that shape so it couldn't be wrong. A bad shape may be suitable in a certain context, that's what good manuals explain too, just look at chapter '_guzumi_'."

"Still not my point," Hikaru moaned. "OK, beginners begin by following the common practice, then, with experience increasing, they dare unusual hands. That's normal, I went through this, and you too, I suppose..."

"So the point is?"

"The point is, we're pros, competing in the greatest tournaments, and we still dare not enough!" Hikaru asserted, hitting the tatami with his fist. "Tell me, Touya, when was the last time you found a really good move in a game? I mean, some really unexpected hand?"

Akira closed his eyes.

"Shindo, have you played Yashiro lately?"

Hikaru shook his head, annoyed.

"Maybe Yashiro plays on internet, but I'm not. Why d'you talk about him anyway?"

"Somehow, the words 'dare' and 'unexpected' related to Go always remind me of him, so I wonder if you're speaking under influence..."

Hikaru folded his arms.

"I need no-one to think by myself, but speaking of Yashiro, he at least dare play bold hands!"

"Cheeky ones, you mean," Akira tempered. "If Go was just a matter of taking risks, he'd already be Meijin, but he's not. I wouldn't say his style isn't interesting, yet it doesn't stand against matured players. Judging from his last games, I think he has understood it. You understand it too, don't you?"

"Right, we can't afford to try everything in a real game... but outside? Here? Now?" Hikaru exclaimed all of a sudden. "This is not even a study group where people just shut up when they have nothing intelligent to add to the discussion. It's just you and me, free to try everything we can imagine without somebody snickering behind our backs."

Akira was not convinced.

"I don't really see the point of playing laughably..."

"It's not playing laughably _on purpose_! It's trying everything, even when it looks laughable, because sometimes, you may find a really interesting move that won't make your opponent laugh!"

"Hmm..."

"And when it's actually silly, we just get off with a good laugh - not exactly harmful, so I'd say it's a win-win plan," Hikaru grinned.

He knew he had already won Akira's agreement when the 5-dan sighed.

"What do you suggest?"

Hikaru leaned backward on his extended arms, musing.

"Well... last Monday, I met Akari on my way home. Remembered something..." He sat up again. "Have you ever played _Othello_?"

"Othello?" Akira repeated stupidly.

"Yes, Othello. Just like Go, it has dark and light pieces, and winning is a matter of territory. Interesting, isn't it?"

"Not really," Akira said. "If I'm not mistaken, the pieces are bicolor, and the grid is much smaller. I don't understand what we gain from playing a game far less complex than Go..."

"No need to turn your nose up, just give it a try with me!" Hikaru begged.

"We don't have that here."

"Look, we can use Go stones inside the squares, and instead of flipping them over, we just replace them by the opposite color..."

Hikaru was about to put two couples of black and white stones inside the central squares of the goban, when the kaya board quickly slid away from under his palm. Akira firmly set it out of Hikaru's reach, much to the bleached boy's confusion.

"Touya..." he groaned.

"Not on this," Akira said in a stern voice. "Wait here."

Startled, Hikaru watched him stand up and walk to his room. Akira came back soon with two small boxes of plastic stones and a 9x9 grid printed on cardboard:

"Use this instead."

Hikaru brightened. Touya had not wanted to see the Game of games profaned on its very altar by a lesser one. '_I won't let you call my respect for the game into question!_' That was just like him, and it suited Hikaru fine.

"All right."

Learning the rules hardly took Akira a minute, yet applying them efficiently was another matter. The first two games they played ended up with large victories for Hikaru.

"Looks like I'm not too bad at this..." the bleached boy said disingenuously.

Akira rolled his eyes.

"If it's the only way you've found to beat me... I bet you've been playing a lot of this before meeting me today."

"What are you thinking?" Hikaru replied in a pretended offended tone. "I've just studied the rules a bit, but who could I have possibly trained with?"

"Anyone. Your parents, your pals, your girlfriend Akari..."

"My _what_?!" Hikaru bellowed. Suddenly, the offense was not pretended anymore.

"Oh, is she not?" Akira asked innocently.

"No, she isn't! How on earth d'you come up with that?"

"Well, of all the friends you talk about, she's the only girl whose name frequently crop up, so I supposed-"

"Don't suppose!" Hikaru snapped. "And stop inventing girlfriends every time I mention a female person I happen to know, you jerk! Akari's a friend, sure, but a sandbox one. Would you go out with your sister - I mean, if you had one?"

"Probably not," Akira admitted.

"It's just the same! Besides, even though she's a close neighbor, I don't meet her so often, mind you."

"All right, all right, forget what I said. Though I don't see what you blow a fuse for; I don't remember her precisely, but in my memory, she wasn't the kind of person you'd be ashamed to be paired with..."

"Interested, Touya?" Hikaru sniggered. "Want me to arrange a date? Lemme check first if she's not already hanging around with some fellow student..."

His attempt to put all the embarrassment back upon Akira misfired.

"Thank you, I'll just take note she's not your girlfriend," he just said. "Still, you won't make me believe you've not played Othello intensively these last days."

Hikaru was fuming, but in the end, he had to confess that he had spent hours playing with a Reversi program on Waya's computer - much to Waya's disdain. Akira agreed on a few more Othello games, which he played better as he had understood basic tricks by watching Hikaru's strategy. The 3-dan lost the last game by a thin margin.

"You sure learn quickly..." he muttered.

"It's not really hard," Akira said. "Once you understand corners are crucial, you know where to play."

"Yet you can't go straightly for them," Hikaru countered. "You must carefully keep your distances until the right moment."

"Aha. However, I don't really see what we can keep from this that we don't already know..."

"Me neither for now, but we've not explored all the subtleties of this game. I wouldn't give up so early."

"As you wish. I prefer to focus on a single board game, if you don't mind."

"You're not very open to novelty, Touya..."

"If you have other _studies_ to suggest, I actually am. Don't expect me to take this as seriously as you'd like, though."

Hikaru gave Akira a disappointed look.

"You really haven't learned anything from this other game?"

Akira thought over for a while, then smiled.

"Actually..."

"Yes?" Hikaru asked with hope.

"There's one thing I see that applies to Go as well as Othello..."

"And that is?"

"An unbalanced opponent makes an easier victory."

Hikaru turned red at once.

"You little b...!" he shouted, flinging a handful of plastic stones at his rival. Akira's clear laughter answered his attack. Hikaru pulled a wry face, vexed and charmed at the same time by this extremely rare music of his.

"Okay, you'll pay for this!" he eventually threatened. "Don't think you alone can remain unperturbed; I'll find a way to prove you wrong."

"Don't force yourself," Akira murmured. _If someone has ever perturbed me... _

"First, since Othello's too petty for you, why don't _you_ show me something interesting?"

"Right now?"

"I'll let you search a bit. You're good at school so you shouldn't have any problem. That's your assignment for next week."

"Will it be graded, _sensei_?"

"No, but you'd better do it, if you don't want me to tell Kitajima what his Go darling has just called me."

"He won't believe you, and you'll likely die strangled on the spot," Akira grinned. "Don't worry though, I'll find something."

* * *

Knowing Touya, Hikaru expected him to find nothing but bad excuses on their next meeting. So, the following Thursday, he was very surprised when Akira answered to his light goad: 

"Didn't forget your homework, Touya?"

"Not at all," Akira said. "Let's have tea before, we need to recharge the batteries after this discussion, and before what I've prepared."

"Really? What is it?" Hikaru asked with intense curiosity. Touya acknowledging his own physical needs was also totally new.

Akira let a mysterious smile hover on his lips.

"You'll see..."

Hikaru polished off his snack even faster than usual, waiting impatiently for Akira to finish. The other boy seemed to take a wicked delight in swallowing his tea one small sip after another.

Finally, they went back to the game place. Akira brought a folded sheet of paper, obviously made from four smaller sheets taped together, along with the now official Study plastic stones.

"I hope this is worth the wait!" Hikaru grumbled.

Akira cleared his throat.

"First, at the risk of strongly disappointing you today, we're going to play Go with the usual rules."

Hikaru rolled his eyes.

"Great, that was my worst fear."

Akira didn't react and went on:

"However, I'm not insensitive to your opinion. You've never made too many comments about it, which I'm grateful for, but I bet you've always considered me as someone a little... _square_, haven't you?"

Hikaru stared at the boy in classic khaki shirt.

"Me? Never, Touya."

Akira nodded:

"How kind a lie. So in order to make up for this, I offer you to play... _Round _Go!"

He unfolded the paper on the floor, and Hikaru's jaw dropped. Instead of the usual square grid, a wide circle was spreading on the four pages. A tangle of lines started from nine equidistant points on this rim and crossed inside to reach an inner nonagon, leaving the center empty.

"How... how are we supposed to play on this?"

"As always," Akira replied. "I told you the same rules apply. You'll notice every intersection has four liberties, including those on the edges."

"Even so... Where to begin? Where are the _hoshi_?"

"You begin wherever you like. And what do you need a star for?" Akira snorted. "You don't want to secure _a__corner_, by any chance?"

"Humph..."

"So, are you ready to play or are you too scared to?"

Easy trigger, but it worked perfectly on Shindo. The 3-dan lips curled up in a feral smile.

"Nigiri!" he just said.

Their game was short - there were only eighty-one playable intersections, but it provided them with plenty of fun and frustration in the same time. Their experience of the game was of no help to evaluate a territory; all they could rely on were the liberties surrounding the stones, and even that could be treacherous. Hikaru discovered it to his cost when Akira took eight stones of his in one move.

"Those people who wouldn't see an atari coming..." he said ironically while the bleached boy was looking daggers at him.

His mocking was short-lived though, as Hikaru paid him back in his own coin.

"I thought I had two eyes..." Akira muttered.

"In your dreams!" Hikaru laughed. "I saw at once that your shape was bad."

Akira shook his head, smiling.

"Bad shape... Whatever."

On this board, it was also hard to determine when the game ended. After a careful check of each stone, they decided it was finished.

"So, who wins? How are the territories?" Hikaru moaned, scratching his head.

"Maybe we should rearrange them?" Akira suggested.

They both stared at each other for seconds, then burst out laughing. In the end, Akira had accidentally won, thanks to the prisoner count. Hikaru didn't look too disappointed, rather excited.

"Incredible game! Where have you found this, Touya?"

"A young pro from a study group I used to attend told me once about it. I've downloaded the board from a website."

"There are so many funny things on the web," Hikaru sighed. "I really must buy a computer some day."

They kept on discussing about Round Go for a while, until Hikaru grabbed his backpack, ready to leave.

"That was great, Touya. When I challenged you to find unusual Go, I didn't expect you to go this far!"

"Yes, and remember next week is your turn!"

"Ah, that won't be easy after today..." Hikaru complained.

Akira cast a smile at his rival:

"Surprise me."

After that, Hikaru had no choice but take up the challenge. He would do it all the more willingly since he was so glad to see Touya losing a bit his shell of reserve and acting more naturally. Hikaru eventually understood that a good part of his rival's sanctimoniousness toward him was merely a hiding coat for all his not-Go-related insecurities. The 3-dan could have taken advantage of it: an unbalanced opponent is easier to beat, as Touya said himself. Yet as much as Hikaru dreamed of defeating Akira, by no means he wanted to _weaken_ him. His rival had to remain strong so that they could both improve.

Of course Hikaru would not leave Akira's teasing unanswered, but he would be careful not to say anything hurtful or too devastating for the 5-dan's pride. He also kept his word and never told anyone about the god game. For his part, Akira was less prone to belittle and criticize Hikaru for one thing or another. In this way he was more honest with himself.

Week after week, study after study, Hikaru and Akira were slowly consolidating the bedrock of true friendship: trust.

* * *

For all that, Hikaru had not forgotten his other friends. He used to drop by Waya's place once in a while, especially when the brown-haired pro invited former insei. On one of such days, he knocked on his friend's door. 

"It's open!" a muffled voice yelled from inside.

Hikaru pushed the door and popped his shoes off at the entrance of the tiny flat. Waya was busy rummaging through a laundry basket, selecting clothes to be thrown into the drum of his brand new washing machine.

"Ah, finally you wash your things yourself, Waya!" Hikaru laughed.

The young man glared at him.

"As far as I know, you're still living at your parents' place, and your mom does your laundry, wrong?"

"Yup!" Hikaru replied, unashamed. "They stopped annoying me with stupid questions about my job a long ago, so I don't feel like leaving for now. Maybe I should start doing my own laundry, though."

"Yes, you should. Then you'd realize what a boring pain it is."

"I trust you on this. Who's coming today?"

"Isumi, for sure, maybe Nase and Komiya too." Waya slammed shut the lid of the machine. "Ochi and Honda have a game today."

"Fine."

"By the way, I've removed Reversi from my hard drive. One fine day you'll thank me for saving your brain."

"Seems I'm done with that anyway..." Hikaru muttered.

Knocks on the door resonated again through the room.

"Good timing," Waya reckoned. "Come in!"

Nase entered, followed by Isumi.

"Hi Waya! Ah, Shindo's already there... Hello!" she greeted.

"Hello guys," Isumi said.

"Hi Nase, Isumi!" the other boys answered.

Nase glanced around.

"Oh, you've got a washing machine now, Waya!" she noticed. "Finally you're doing your own laundry!"

"Second," Waya snapped.

"What?"

"Shindo's first; you lose, Nase. And this is _not_ today's subject!"

"That was just a praise for your maturity, from an already mature girl," Nase pouted. "What's today's subject then?"

"I've brought the photos of China," Isumi announced, wielding a thick pack of prints.

"Ah great!" Hikaru cheered. "Finally we're going to see what Waya and you have been doing for three months in Beijing!"

"...apart from Go training," Nase completed.

They all sat down in circle, waiting for Isumi to unseal the pack. Waya alone didn't share the common excitement.

"How come you haven't shown me first, Isumi?" he moaned.

"So I prevent any censorship of yours, Waya," the elder pro replied. "I know you too well..."

Waya looked away, quite upset:

"False friend..."

The pictures were circulated one by one—a tense Waya first checking each of them, while Isumi commented.

"This one was taken the first day; this is the apartment we rented there..."

"Woah, quite roomy!" Nase marveled.

"Isn't it? We've lived like kings for three months and a rather cheap rent, thanks to Yang Hai-san who found us this nice place," Waya boasted.

"There he is, by the way," Isumi added, showing another picture featuring the Chinese pro.

"That's him, with the lousy Hawaiian shirt?" Hikaru gawked, incredulous.

Isumi and Waya laughed.

"Why, that's his everyday wear in summer!"

"Gee, I've always known him in suit and tie..."

"Of course, you've only met him at the Hokuto Cups, three days in a year," Waya replied. "A bit short to criticize his fashion sense, Shindo..."

"But look at those flip-flops!"

"He's right to dress lightly when it's this hot!" Nase asserted. "Since you're so clear-cut on good taste, Shindo-kun, there's a couple of gaudy shirts of yours we can talk about too..."

Hikaru snorted. Isumi went on, passing the prints:

"This is the Weiqi Institute front."

"Huge! How many students again?" Hikaru asked.

"Plenty of them, and strong enough to put you off playing Go if you don't hang on with everything you have," Waya laughed.

"That means you two must have improved a lot! How depressing..." Nase sighed.

"I'll cheer you up, then," Isumi said. "Here's the picture you're all waiting for..."

In a flash, the photograph was deftly snatched from his hand.

"I'll take care of this, if you don't mind..." Waya declared. He glanced at his loot and blinked. The picture just displayed him, casually standing in the middle of Tian An Men Square.

"... this one," Isumi specified, entrusting the next print to Hikaru's hands, out of Waya's reach.

"No, Isumi!" the brown-haired boy yelled.

His outcry was instantly covered by Hikaru and Nase's mirth.

"Is this... Waya... and...?" Hikaru asked between chokes of laughter.

"Yes, it's Waya and Le Ping," Isumi grinned.

"In-cre-di-ble, they look _exactly_ the same!" Hikaru guffawed. "You were not telling fibs, Isumi-san!"

"There's no way I look like that brat!" the most concerned in the room howled.

"Are you kidding, Waya? When I look at him, I just see you again in our insei days!" Nase rejoined.

"No way!" Waya repeated. "I couldn't be as loud and immature! Even Shindo wasn't!"

"Isumi alone can judge on that ground, but as for the likeness, it's obvious!" Nase replied. "Have you other pictures of them, Isumi?"

"No, it's the only one. It's been a hell to catch them together, I had to get them by surprise."

"Indeed, they don't look too happy to stand side by side!" Hikaru smirked.

"But they're sooo cuuute!" Nase almost swooned. She turned to Waya. "Do they make you in plushies? I'd love a couple of those on my bed."

"Why not ask for the real thing instead?" Waya retorted with an evil leer. "I bet you'd love it even more _on your bed_."

Nase returned his stare.

"Are you sure, Waya-kun? You'd let me strangle you when I'm angry, tear your hair when I'm nervous, toss you on the TV screen whenever a stupid idol sings, and hide you in the closet while I spend time with my boyfriend?"

Waya gave his provocative stance up at once.

"Haha, nice try, Waya!" Hikaru said seconds before a cushion crashed into his face. Its thrower stood up, seething.

"Oh Waya, stay with us, there's a good lot of other pics to see!" Nase begged.

"...'need a leak," the other grumbled, making for the bathroom.

Nase rolled her eyes.

"No need to get into such a state... This is still a nice shot," she said, giving back the print to Isumi.

"They really hate each other?" Hikaru whispered to Isumi.

"'Hate' may be a bit strong, but nobody likes to be the laughing stock of a whole federation, so I understand they resent it," the young man explained.

"And that Le Ping, is he good at Go?"

"Not as strong as Zhao Shi, whom you also met at the Hokutos, but as Waya said, you can't underestimate a single one of them. I learned it the hard way three years ago..."

"Is he better than Waya?" Hikaru winked.

Isumi scratched his head, embarrassed.

"I'd say... they're equal... kinda."

"I beat that shrimp seven times out of ten, Isumi!" an angry voice roared from the bathroom.

"As you like, Waya," Isumi sighed. "But he's nearly fifteen now, so calling him 'shrimp' isn't fair."

"He doesn't look his age... unless you consider the mental one!" Waya sneered, stepping out of the bathroom and closing his fly. To Nase's relief, he did not forget the stop at the kitchen sink.

"However, you can't deny your resemblance to Le Ping made you instantly popular among the students," Isumi replied. "Everybody wanted to play against you and discuss with you—those who spoke Japanese at least. Honestly, I wish I had your luck the first day I spent there!"

Back to his seat, Waya smiled at the fond memories.

"Yeah, I suppose I owe him that..."

"So now, Waya is going to rock in the leagues! Maybe he's strong enough to win against you, Shindo?" Nase said, nudging the bleached boy.

"I doubt traveling abroad a bit makes you _that_ strong," Hikaru retorted rather cockily.

Waya didn't lose his temper.

"I quite agree," he said. "Reminds me of that guy who went all the way to Seoul last year, just to lose against Ko Yongha _again_."

He leaned sideways in time to avoid the cushion flying back to its owner.

"Please don't start, you two," Isumi warned. "I've not come here to watch another fight!"

"Me too," Nase said. "Especially since you both have little to complain about your Go level, unlike me."

"What's wrong, Nase?" Hikaru asked. "You too have finally passed pro, just like us."

Nase clenched her fists, obviously upset.

"Precisely, I did _not_ pass just like you! I passed the Special Examination for Women, that is so special you're not considered a true pro until you reach 4 dan!"

"Yeah, I remember you say you'd never lower yourself to that point," Waya said.

Nase's eyelids drooped.

"I know, I'm so ashamed... but I can't imagine my life out of Go. I couldn't stay with the insei, so I took the easy way before it's too late... I'm hopeless."

Isumi shook his head.

"You were barred from entering through the front door, so you made it through the one and only open window left, what's wrong with that? Besides, what you call "the easy way" remains out of reach for the big majority. You just start a bit lower than the very bottom, but now you've got plenty of time to rise among us pros."

"Thank you, Isumi," she muttered.

"If you're unlucky in Go, you must be lucky in other domains," Waya winked, then dodged another of his cushions.

"When I find a boy mature enough to understand my passion _and_ treat me like any normal girl, I'll sure be lucky!" she hissed.

Hikaru cast an appreciative look over the young woman's slender figure.

"Nase-chan, you're too exceptional to be treated like a normal girl," he said softly, "and I totally understand you."

Nase's eyes widened. She turned to him, gazing at his green eyes, and her lips parted as she leaned forward. His heart pounding, the bleached boy was holding his breath.

"Oh Hikaru-kun, you're so sweet..." she purred, slowly stroking his cheek, "... and so not my type!" she ended, suddenly prodding him on the nose.

"Ouch!" Hikaru screamed, rubbing his nose while the others laughed.

"Don't push too hard there, Nase, it's ready to bleed!" Waya snickered, secretly relieved that Shindo was not more successful than him.

"He's still a better smooth talker than you are," Nase replied.

Waya stuck his tongue out to her. Hikaru was sulking, his nose not as hurt as his male pride.

"You're not seriously running after me, Shindo-kun, were you?" Nase asked with a bit of concern.

"Of course not, I was joking," he huffed irritably. "But stop treating me like a child, I'm seventeen!"

"If you keep reacting like that, you don't help yourself," Waya laughed, ignoring Hikaru's glare.

"I know you're not a little boy anymore, Shindo," Nase said. "What a shame, you were once rather cute too."

"Now, the cute boy has become a master, and a monster too!" Isumi said as to lighten Hikaru's ordeal. "Fighting other monsters like Ko and Touya... We don't belong to his league."

"What's with the self-depreciation, Isumi?" Waya glowered. "You're strong enough to fight Shindo, and even beat him!"

Isumi turned to Hikaru.

"I don't know, we've barely met once in official games. I hope we get more opportunities in the future, Shindo," he smiled.

Hikaru brightened. Of all his friends, Isumi was the one he respected the most.

"I look forward to it, Isumi-san!" he said eagerly.

"By the way, how's my little Oka doing, Shindo?" Nase asked suddenly. "Is he ready for the pro exam?"

"He'd better be, September is coming fast! I'm confident though, and he is too. We play many games every Wednesday, and I don't make them easy!"

"Good! If his rival Shouji passes and he doesn't, he's gonna be devastated."

"Shouji? Yeah, he'll never admit it, but I can see how Oka's focused on that boy. I'll have a talk with him. A rival to emulate is a good thing, but it mustn't turn into an obsession."

"Well said," Nase commented, "although... can you honestly say you've never been obsessive about Touya, Shindo?"

Hikaru lowered his stare.

"When I was insei, I wasn't Touya's rival yet..." he began.

"Ah, that's not what you bragged about on your first insei day!" Waya interjected. "Am I wrong, Isumi?"

Hikaru smiled.

"I know, I was a bit early on reality. What I mean is, I had Touya in mind, but as a goal, not a direct rival. Unlike Shouji for Oka, he wasn't around to goad me or anything. So if I was obsessed, it was an obsession dragging me forward, not freezing me on the spot."

Isumi and Nase nodded in approval. Waya, as usual, remained the most skeptical:

"So now that you're his actual rival, d'you feel frozen? I wouldn't be surprised, the guy's worth two or three packs of dry ice."

Hikaru's eyes blazed, but he answered quietly:

"I wouldn't spend every Thursday playing him if it was the case."

By admitting this, he effectively took the wind out of Waya's sails.

"Really? You two still meet at Touya-sensei's salon?" Isumi asked.

"There or elsewhere..." Hikaru evasively answered, unwilling to expose every detail of his renewed relationship with Touya.

"Woah, big fun!" Waya sneered.

Hikaru's lips curled up.

"You'd be surprised, Waya..."

"Oh yeah? Please tell me why, I'm curious."

Hikaru stuck his tongue out:

"None of your business!" then he leaned against the wall, his arms folded behind his head, in a way that stifled any further questioning.

"You brat!" Waya huffed.

"Ah, but Shindo is free to meet whoever he wants, especially his Rival of Destiny!" Nase said with a tad of grandiloquence.

"Yeah..." Waya moaned. "I wonder what Morishita-sensei would say about it..."

Hikaru held his stare.

"Is it a threat, Waya? Then forget it. You can tell _sensei_ whatever you want, I doubt it'll worsen things very much. I'm too compromised with the Touya clan already."

"Are you?" Nase asked.

"Let me see: Ogata-sensei recommended me for the insei test; he invited me to Touya's study group - even though I refused; Touya's dad asked to be my opponent at the Shin Shodan... and now, there's all the time I spend playing his son," Hikaru enumerated offhandedly. "A nice bunch of charges, Your Honor."

"Well, if you're ready to face sensei's wrath..." Waya replied on the same tone.

Hikaru shrugged.

"It won't be the first time, nor the last, so I don't really care. I've never been the chosen disciple promised to his daughter, to begin with," he added mischievously.

Waya stared at him for two seconds.

"OK, that's it." Then he pounced on him forthwith.

Isumi and Nase exchanged glances as the younger boys were noisily wrestling on the floor.

"Would it be better if I didn't come to our meetings for a while?" Nase asked.

Isumi scratched his head.

"Not sure... If it goes on like this, I'm afraid we may have to find them girlfriends soon."

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**[NOTES:**

_Manzai_: a style of stand-up comedy involving two performers, the _buke_ and the _tsukkomi_, who hold roughly the same parts as the funny and the straight man in a western comedy duo.

_Kosumi-tsuke_: a diagonal move (kosumi) to attach (tsuke).

_Akisankaku_: "empty triangle", when 3 stones make a right angle with no opposing stone inside. A very bad shape most of the time.

_Guzumi_: a bad-looking shape that is good in context.

_Round Go_: I can't provide here a link to a picture of this interesting board (thanks FFnet policy...). If you search a bit, you can find the printable file Akira probably used in this chapter, and even a java application to play with it!

--

It's been four months already, so there's little progress in update time. I won't enumerate again all my good and bad excuses. As years go by, free time becomes a real luxury. All I can do is keep on writing as often as I can (not very often alas), and be grateful to my (im)patient reviewers: _therhoda_, _Yue Ryong - Shadowborne_, _Rebbi_, _audny-the-albatross_, _hennahito-ckbc_, _GoldenRat_ and _Kuzosama_ who rightly flamed my laziness. Thank you all, and please accept this extra-long chapter as a late summer gift.

If this is not enough, some of you may find interest in reading again the second part of chapter 5. Why's that? _Hikaru no Go_ twenty-third and final volume (sob) is finally published in French (right in due course, unlike me). I go buy it, and my worst fear -as regards to this fic- is confirmed: Oka, who I first wrote in doubt as a girl character, actually is a _freaking_ _boy_! (damn you, English scanlator!) In my answer to Rebbi's review, I dared write that no matter what, I had my choice made, blah, blah... as if I could fight my own nature: I just can't stand breaking canon, especially _HnG_ canon. So I rewrote Hikaru and Akira's dialog in chapter 5, and surprisingly, Oka's sex change somehow made it funnier, in my sense at least - you may not agree... As for the future chapters, the impact is light. The relationship between Hikaru and his disciple won't be as sweet as I planned first, but it can remain interesting altogether.

While I was at rewrites, I revised the whole fic to correct punctuation and every mistake I could detect. If anybody with astounding grammar and spelling skills (and Buddhist patience!) fancies beta-ing, he or she's welcome!

Finally, believe me or not, chapter 8 is coming soon. Yes, much sooner than you'd expect from me!

Valérien


	8. Prelude

_Disclaimers: _Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning_: spoilers everywhere!

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**8. Prelude**

* * *

Two weeks after the god game episode, Hikaru called Akira on his cell-phone: 

"Is it still OK for tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night..."

"It's full moon," Hikaru said as if it was enough of an explanation. "Remember your promise?"

As often when talking to his rival, Akira was lost.

"Have I promised anything?"

"Yeah, the full moon game!" Hikaru moaned. "So can I stay over?"

"Oh... that. You weren't talking seriously, were you?"

"Yes, I was," Hikaru replied. "So, yes or no?"

"Don't be pushy, Shindo, I made no promise about that," Akira snapped. "Besides, you're not even sure that night won't be cloudy."

"I'm sure it won't, because I've checked the weather channel, and because I say so!"

Akira smiled. Shindo's pushiness was often annoying, but it saved him a lot of embarrassment.

"If it's so important to you... I'll be home at 7 PM, bring your toothbrush, ramen not allowed," and he hung up.

On Saturday 8 PM, Hikaru was ringing at Touya's door. He had his usual backpack - and with chance a toothbrush inside, as well as a flavored bag. Akira was already raising an eyebrow, so Hikaru immediately clarified things:

"No ramen. You like curry?" he scowled.

"... yes," the 5-dan blurted out, taken aback, "but you didn't have to bring dinner, I can take care of that."

"I thought so, but Mom insisted, just because I'm staying all night. Hope you haven't already made something..."

"No, I knew you'd be late."

Hikaru pulled a face, but didn't answer. Once he had his things settled in the room where Akira had put an extra futon, they went straight into dinner while the rice was still hot. Akira didn't eat as much as his rival - few people could anyway, but he did justice to his portion.

"You'll congratulate your mother, her curry is really delicious."

The Touyas were generally known to spare compliments, so Akira's praise was not to be taken as mere politeness, and Hikaru beamed.

"Why don't you tell her yourself?"

"You want me to call her now?"

"No, just wait till next Thursday, when you come to my place, for once!" Hikaru winked.

"Ah... erm... thanks," Akira mumbled upon the totally unexpected invitation. Hikaru smiled: his pal-around agenda for Touya was running smoothly.

They took their time to finish and wash everything. Hikaru went out on the veranda to feel the warm night breeze and admire the full moon rising above the surrounding roofs. Meanwhile, Akira was setting the goban and goke by the open screen, straight under the moon's rays. Then he switched the lights off to judge the effect.

"How does it look?"

Hikaru spun around. The room was pitch dark, except for a white rectangle on the tatami, in the middle of which the precious kaya goban dramatically stood out.

"Fan-tas-tic!" the boy marveled.

"Maybe you'd like a kimono dress, to make things perfect?" Akira asked half-jokingly.

"Oh, can we? You can lend me one? Please, Touya!" Hikaru almost squealed.

The boy was standing against the light so his face remained unseen, but Akira easily imagined the excited sparkles in the olive-green eyes.

"All right," he sighed.

He dragged Hikaru into his bedroom and picked two yukata in the dresser.

"It's seasonal, and we'll even be ready to go to bed after the game," he said. "Here, take this one and go change yourself in your room."

Hikaru nodded and ceremoniously took the light garment.

Akira was quickly done and went back to sit by the goban. Hikaru came after a while, striding resolutely on his bare feet.

"Here I am, let's begin."

Akira just threw a glance at him:

"You're already dead."

"What? The game hasn't even started!" Hikaru replied indignantly. "Feeling cocky tonight, Touya?"

"No, your yukata is wrapped on the wrong side: right over left suits people ready for burial. As a living person, you always put the left side over the right."

"Eh?" Hikaru looked at his robe, then at Akira's, then his again. "Oh shoot..." and he started to work again at the knot of his _obi_. It must have been a complicated one, because after several unsuccessful attempts, he walked to stand under the moonlight, squirming over his navel in a weird way.

"Let me see." Akira stood up and authoritatively got hold of Hikaru's rebellious sash. "What a mess... When was the last time you wore a kimono?"

"Dunno," Hikaru grumbled. "Must be that play I performed with Haze's Go club. Akari was taking care of all the dressing and undressing, so I didn't have to learn."

He felt stupid and immature, having a taller yet slightly younger guy tying his knot for him like for a little boy. For some reason, Touya's hands fluttering around his waist made him feel nervous too.

"And you don't look too skilled with a yukata either. What can you possibly wear by these summer nights?" Akira asked without really thinking.

"My underwear, or nothing!" Hikaru retorted defiantly. He bit his lip at once. He certainly had a knack for provoking Touya... but not _that_ way?

One advantage of moonlight is, in its dominant paleness, nobody sees you blush. Akira, as embarrassed as his rival, finally managed to untie the knot, rearrange the robe on the sweaty chest and tie the sash again.

"Look: I've made a simple one, so next time you can do it yourself."

"Hmm!" Hikaru emitted as thanks. Both now breathed easier.

Akira sat back in front of the goban.

"Are we ready?"

"So it seems... Wow, you look terrific!" Hikaru said, looking at his opponent in kimono and _in situ_. "You forgot your sword though," he added in a laugh.

"The only weapons needed here are the stones," Akira replied, "and I won't move several piles of heavy things just to please your esthetic taste tonight, Shindo."

Hikaru's laugh instantly died.

"Wait... you mean... you really _own_ a sword?"

Akira closed his eyes. _I'm talking too much to Shindo for my own good._

"There's the family _daisho_ in a chest somewhere, but-"

He was interrupted by the dull sound of Shindo dropping on all fours in front of him.

"So, you... you're a real _samurai_!"

Even in the half-light, the expression of utter amazement on his face appeared clearly. Akira sighed.

"I belong through my father to a noble lineage, yes - for what it's worth nowadays... And before you ask, NO, I won't show you the swords."

"Oh, why's that?" Hikaru moaned, displaying puppy-eyes girls would fall for at once - but Akira was no girl and it was too dark for them to be really efficient anyway.

"Look, if I show you the swords, you'll want to touch them. When you touch them, you insult my family and all my ancestors, so as the acting master of this house, I'll have no choice but to draw the blade, cut your head, then spend several hours mopping the pool of blood, when I'd rather keep my rival alive so we can play a good game together. That's why NO."

He kept his face as stern as possible, though it was very hard not to laugh at Shindo's sheer dumbfoundment.

"So cool!" Hikaru finally whispered in total awe.

This was getting a little on Akira's nerves.

"Shindo, stop gaping at me like that. I'm Touya Akira and you play Go with me every week! So please, forget about all that and prepare for our game."

Hikaru kept staring at him.

"Now I understand many things. Your dad's pride... Yours..."

"So what?" Akira retorted aggressively. "You too have your own pride, don't you?"

"Sure," Hikaru quietly replied. "I'm proud to face you as an equal on this goban. I'm also proud to count a noble man among my friends. You're the sec- erm, nothing..." he mumbled in sudden panic.

He had been about to say "_you're the second one_", but he stopped just in time. Fortunately, Akira wasn't paying attention: the word "friends" was already burning in his heart like a blessed candle. Hikaru quickly brought him back to reality.

"So you won't show me your sword tonight, too bad... I hope to make you draw your Go blade at least."

Akira relaxed.

"I hope so too. By the way, you asked about my sword, but won't you take your fan?"

Hikaru tensed.

"This means a _serious_ game, Touya," he said gravely.

"Isn't it what you planned for tonight? Or is this another _study_?"

Hikaru stared at him for a while.

"No, you're right. Just wait a minute," and he made towards the guest room.

Akira blinked in perplexity. He could not see what the fan had to do with playing a serious game or not. One thing was quite certain though, Shindo had not bought his fan just to look cool. In every of his official games, he always had it firmly held in his hand, but _never_ to unfold it, even less wave it like other players full of themselves often did.

Hikaru came back with his fan in the left hand. He first kneeled in the doorway, facing the garden and the moon. Akira gave him a wondering look, but remained silent. Hikaru stayed there a long moment, his hands joined around the fan handle, seemingly rapt in contemplation.

Finally, he slid aside toward his opponent. Akira opened his fist on the goban as Hikaru released a couple of stones. _Nigiri_ designated the latter.

"_Onegaishimasu_," they said in unison.

Hikaru took a good breath. When he had asked for that moonlight game, he had been mostly driven by the fun of the setting, so exotic to a boy disconnected from his own tradition. Now, holding tight Sai's symbolic heirloom, he felt compelled to play a game as worthy as possible of the memory of the Go genius. That was essentially the import of his unspoken prayer.

_This is yours, Sai. Tonight, you face Touya again. Let me play your hands so the three of us have a great game._

No clock to press them, only the bamboo tube clacking outside to pace their minds. In dignified moves, Hikaru's fingers picked a stone, raised it and placed it on the grid with a slight slide forward to reach the exact line crossing. In the eerie light, his nails seemed to glow on the kaya table. Hikaru remembered the strong impression Touya's father made on him, long ago: the old pro hands were shining alike, and the son obviously inherited this feature.

Akira answered those seemingly perfect moves with perfection. At first, he was not expecting much of the game, considering Shindo's trivial desires. The 3-dan's first hands quickly set him straight. Not only were they graceful and carefully thought over, but they supported his own moves rather than they countered them. Akira did nothing to disrupt this harmony; on the contrary, he completely put his relentless Go aside to sing on the same tune.

Thus the pace of the game reached the magnificence of a ballet. Walls were erected, flowing like rivers along open fields, embracing them, pushing against hedges or crossing them in a breathtaking swirl. On this memorable night, Hikaru and Akira were communing in the beauty of Go like they never did before.

When _yose_ was finally completed, none of them made a move to rearrange the territories. The mere idea of counting the score seemed blasphemous. Eventually, Hikaru raised his stare and broke the silence.

"_Arigatou gozaimasu_, Touya."

"_Arigatou gozaimasu_, Shindo."

Rarely an end game expression had conveyed so much sense. What to say after that? For a long time, they remained transfixed in the pale light.

"This..." Hikaru whispered,"... isn't it a _real_ god game?"

In a shock, Akira realized the other boy had voiced his own thought. They had just played the game Akira did not dare hope the other day, when Shindo mocked his efforts to build harmonious patterns on the board. He was not able to give him a totally affirmative answer though.

Hikaru thought he had it. Obviously, Sai had answered his prayer. Maybe he had finally found the _Kami no itte_ up there, and this game was a glimpse of it sent as a heavenly gift?

"I must record this!" Hikaru decided, unable to contain his delight. "Touya, have you some kifu sheets?"

He did not add "please", but Akira shared his excitement, so he went fetch a kifu pad and pens.

Hikaru got straight down to work, lying in prone position toward the garden to benefit from the moonlight. None of them even thought of switching the lights on again. At one point, Hikaru sat up to look at the goban, then wrote down two or three hands. Several times, he had to check the goban, much to his exasperation:

"What's wrong with me? I always remember a game I've just played, and now I'm not so sure!"

"Give me a sheet," Akira said. "I'll write it down and we'll compare."

Hikaru grumbled a bit, but complied. Soon Akira quickly bumped on the same problem: some sequences would escape him inexplicably. He did his best though, and when they compared the two kifu, both displayed the final pattern of the goban, with the hands in the same order.

"Really, it's strange," Hikaru muttered. "We don't normally hesitate like this, do we?"

Akira shook his head.

"No, but I may see a reason. This game doesn't look like any I'd play against anyone, and certainly not against you."

"Same here," Hikaru agreed. "I'd even say, we'd better not play like that in a tournament, or we'll never get very far. These are clearly no winning tactics."

Akira almost gasped. _Is the divine game a winning one? _The question was haunting him again. Actually, the present game could not really be called perfect, some of its sequences now appeared quite odd on the kifu. Yet they seemed so right at the time!

"I wonder how we got into this," Akira said. "I didn't play a 'god game' as you like to say, and you took it very seriously too, am I wrong?"

"Definitely," Hikaru confirmed. "I don't know either. Yet I can't say it's a bad game... It's just... special. Feels good, sorta..."

_Is it you, Sai? _he muttered in himself_. If it is, then thank you. With all my heart._

Fortunately, Akira could not distinguish his moist eyes.

"Do you want to discuss it?" the 5-dan asked softly, though he already guessed the answer.

"No," Hikaru instantly replied. "Discussion is meant to improve a game. This one doesn't need that. It's perfect - in its own way... Look, I'm not even sure we could play another one of this kind. Let's take it as it is... a gift."

Akira shivered. He had not forgotten Shindo's behavior prior to the game, and the words naturally burst out:

"A gift... from Sai?"

Hikaru's grip tightened on his fan.

"Who knows?" he said simply.

That's all he would tell Akira, and Akira knew it. They remained speechless for a while, undecided as to what to do after such an experience.

"Feel sleepy?" Akira asked.

"Not at all! It's still early. What about you?"

"No... Let's go outside."

"Yup!"

A light breeze refreshed them as they went down in the garden. The whole place was brightly lit by the moon, and Hikaru went to explore it, jumping from rock to rock on his bare feet, just for the fun of it. Akira sat down on the bamboo floor of the porch, watching him with an amused twitch of lips.

"You're gonna twist your ankle, Shindo," he warned. "Be careful, carps jump sometimes, some rocks may be wet."

All the rocks around the pond were perfectly dry, but a wobbly one nearly compromised Hikaru's balance. The boy saved himself just in time to avoid a midnight soak. He finally flopped down next to Akira, laughing.

"So, what's my time?"

"I haven't checked," Akira said, "but no doubt you're the record holder; nobody ever does that."

"Wanna try?"

"I knew you were going to say that."

Hikaru laughed but did not insist. As much as he would love to see his rival fall flat in the pond, he didn't want to ruin this perfect night by a useless humiliation. _No need to press things with Touya_, he thought. The 5-dan pro was already much more relaxed than usual.

"What was that play you performed at Haze?" Akira asked suddenly.

"Ah, the play!" Hikaru grinned, as fond memories were coming back. "_The great fire of Honnou-ji_, or something like that. Though it wasn't really about the fire, but a triple ko in a game."

"I remember this legend," Akira said. "Just before Mitsuhide's assault against the temple, Nobunaga was playing a game against Honinbo Sansa..."

"Actually, it was Sansa against Rigen Kashio," Hikaru corrected. "Kag- I mean, Nobunaga was just watching."

"Right. They had a triple ko in that game, and it was considered a harbinger for the events to follow. I must have the record somewhere, we could recreate it..." Akira said eagerly. He was already making a move toward the library, but Hikaru laid a hand on his arm:

"No, Touya, why would you want to replace our great game by that nasty one? If it's anything like the videotape in _Ringu_, imagine your house in fire before tomorrow morning."

Akira let out a skeptical snort.

"What about Haze school, then? Did it burn, or haven't you really played the actual game on the stage?"

"No, it didn't, and yes we have!" Hikaru retorted. "Partially at least. Tsutsui was very serious on this, he made me study the game. He probably took Sansa's part just to keep control of things. Of course, Kaga played Nobunaga, Mitani was Mitsuhide - he had the coolest costume! and Akari... just a guard," he promptly ended, unwilling to fuel Touya's stats with too many occurrences of Akari's name in his talk.

"What about you?"

"Me, I played Rigen."

"Rigen, the underdog..."

"I was given Rigen because he had the shortest lines in Tsutsui's play!" Hikaru pouted, and Akira chuckled. "Poor Tsutsui, he was turning crazy with us guys: I, unable to memorize my lines, Mitani and Kaga always bickering about who had the lead part..." He stopped, looking at Akira. "Thinking of it, you've already met all of them!"

"I'm not sure. It's a few years now..."

"Not so long ago... You saw Mitani, Tsutsui and Akari at the summer tournament. Mitani and Tsutsui were first and second board in the Haze team, Akari was... just there. You and I were third..."

There was an uneasy silence after Hikaru trailed off. The bleached boy wanted to kick himself hard.

"I'd rather remember that winter tournament, when you played so well, disguised in that oversized uniform," Akira said softly. "How did you got there?"

Hikaru winced. Ineluctably, memories were leading them to bump into the wall of his secrets. He answered nonetheless.

"Kaga and Tsutsui needed a third one in the team. I lost a game to Kaga, so I had to join the team."

"That's all? They knew about your skill, then? Why did they choose you?"

"Because..." Hikaru hesitated. "Because of _you_!"

"What?" Akira gasped.

"Yes, Tsutsui was showing tsumego problems; he said: 'if you can solve this one, you're at Touya Akira's level.' Then Kaga arrived, said 'Who cares about Touya, he's lost against me.' So I picked a fight with him, because I had seen how strong you were, I said he must have cheated against you, or you weren't playing seriously, then he got furious, and he challenged me with a game, and I lost, and that's all."

He glanced at Akira:

"Is it true, Touya? You really lost against Kaga?"

Akira blushed. He was not eager to speak, but Shindo had answered his question, so he felt impelled to tell the whole story: how he used to meet Kaga at the Go lessons for children, how he overheard Kaga's father threatening his son, how he let the brash boy win by a moku and a half.

"I didn't want him to have problems," he said, "but in the end, it was a mistake. He never went back after that."

Hikaru nodded.

"Now I understand why he hated you so much..."

"Did he?" Akira whispered.

"Man, he even tore a tsumego book by your father apart!" Hikaru laughed. "Oh, he must have gotten over it since," he added, noticing Akira's sad expression. "He's always been into _shougi_ first anyway."

"I've always feared I made him quit Go," Akira said in a little voice that surprised Hikaru. "When I talked to Father about it, he blamed me for not playing my real strength. '_When not playing_ shidougo_, you must always give the best of yourself, Akira, whoever you face. By not doing so, you're scornful to your opponent, and to yourself. Handicap stones exist for a reason_.' he said. I've never forgotten the lesson."

Hikaru patted him on the shoulder.

"Good advice. But don't worry about Kaga, he's way too cool to keep a grudge after all this time. Besides, he wouldn't have spend time helping Tsutsui with the club if he hated Go so much... No, the one to blame in the story is Kaga's dad!" he growled. "What kinda father he is to threaten his own son like that! I bet he was just frustrated because he hasn't succeeded himself in passing even an insei exam! Honestly, Touya, did your father force Go down your throat when you were a kid?"

Akira shook his head.

"No, he just let me watch him play with the other pros of our study group. I was two years old when I first asked him to teach me. When he saw me taking interest, he agreed to guide me on condition that I'd be serious and dedicated in learning, that's all. If I had not chosen his way, maybe he'd have been disappointed, but I don't think he'd blame me for that..."

Hikaru's eyes sparkled.

"You have such a father, Touya! Strict but charismatic enough to pass you down his passion..."

Akira didn't answer, but he blushed under the sincere praise.

"Yeah, you're so lucky with a dad like yours," Hikaru went on. "If I had to count on mine..."

Akira looked at him.

"Your father..."

"Even so, he paid the application fee for my insei test," Hikaru said blankly, "but except for that, he hasn't given a damn about it whatsoever..."

Akira kept mute. Shindo had just told him something very personal, and he was not sure how to deal with it. By speaking too lightly, he might hurt him. Yet not speaking may make Shindo believe Akira did not give a damn either. This was a delicate instant.

"You'd like him to acknowledge your true value..." he whispered.

Hikaru did not answer at once. Then his cheek curved in a half-smile.

"Maybe... I don't really care," he said. He raised his stare upon Akira. "As long as the people who _do_ care keep looking at me..."

Akira held the stare.

"As long as you don't disappoint them, they sure will look at you."

* * *

Sitting cross-legged in front of the table, Hikaru was gulping down a bowl of rice. 

The sun was already high in the morning sky when the boys woke up on the veranda where they had spent a long time talking, to the point slumber fell on them by surprise. Hikaru had first sneezed, then sworn as he remembered a professional appointment he had this Sunday morning in exactly an hour and a half. Thus he hadn't waited for Akira to dash to the bathroom, take a quick shower and get dressed. Fortunately, he had brought a spare shirt, so he wouldn't have to either go change himself at home first, or smell funny in the Go Study Center. Meanwhile, Akira had gone straight to the rice cooker, yawning.

"Shorry, Touya, I'fe comp'ete'y fo'gotten," Hikaru munched.

Akira, still in yukata since nothing hurried him, just nodded in total lack of surprise.

"Do you think you'll make it in time? Need a suit or something?"

This time, Hikaru swallowed before speaking.

"No, it's just showing the Center around for members of an amateur club somewhere. Nothing formal but Morishita-sensei will kill me if I miss it, it's my turn to help. Thanks anyway."

"People may take offense if you look too casual..." Akira pointed out.

"Touya, don't you feel how hot it is already? There's no way I'll stick myself in a suit! All those geezers don't care anyway; they're just too happy to see young guys still interested in their hobby."

Akira smiled, remembering the lady at the Osaka Go festival.

"I see what you mean..."

Hikaru stood up, washed his bowl in the sink, then went to the guest room to gather his things.

"I've made you prepare a futon for nothing, in the end..." he said, throwing a surrounding stare.

Akira did not mind.

"Hope your night wasn't too awful."

"Nope, it was perfect... Well, my neck's a bit stiff, but it could be worse!" Hikaru said, rubbing the strained muscles. "_You_ mustn't have been too comfortable yourself."

"I'm not more delicate than you are," huffed Akira, for whom such a night was worth a back aching for a few days.

Hikaru smiled but did not add anything. He donned his backpack - wincing a little when putting his arms through the shoulder straps, and made for the _genkan_.

"Don't forget your mother's dishes," Akira said, holding out the big paper bag.

"Ah, thanks... I've no time to drop by home, so I must lug this around all day..." he moaned.

"You can leave it here and take it back later, if you want," Akira suggested. "I won't be home this afternoon, though. Or maybe I can go..."

Akira surprised himself with his sudden level of concern for Shindo's comfort.

"Nah, never mind," Hikaru interjected. "I can carry it, it'll train a muscle or two. Remember you're coming at my place next Thursday, by the way!"

"With pleasure, if you deign to explain me how I can get there."

"Sure... "

Hikaru looked around for a sheet of paper. Then his eyes fell on the goban, still displaying their moonlight game.

"The kifu! _That's_ the thing not to forget!" he hollered, darting to the game place.

He grabbed the kifu he had completed himself, looked at it for a moment, then picked up a pen still lying on the floor. On the back of the sheet, he drew a sketch map of his area.

"Here," he said, holding the kifu out to Akira. "This is the way to my place, as well as a memory of this night. I'll take yours if you don't mind."

Without waiting for an answer, Hikaru took the other kifu, rolled it and just slid it inside his shirt.

"I think I'm ready now. Thanks for everything, Touya, it was really great!"

"You're welcome," Akira said softly.

Hikaru slip his shoes on, while Akira opened the door.

"_Jaa ne_!" the bleached boy waved, before striding past the gate into the street.

Akira closed the gate behind him, then went back in the living-room, still holding Hikaru's kifu. The black and white pearls on the goban were vividly shining under the sun, inspiring Akira a faint melancholy. Their magic, so pregnant in the moonlight glow, now seemed worn out in full daylight. Leaving the game on the goban for days would not change anything: something was missing here. _Someone_ was missing.

Akira shook his head.

_I'm ridiculous_. _This is just a good game I had with Shindo, and we'll have many other good ones in the future._

Ignoring the twinge of regret in his heart, he put down the kifu and carefully removed the stones back to the bowls.

In a way, he was acting rightly. The game, as rewarding as it had been, was not as important to him as what had followed: for the first time in his life, he had someone his age who would confide in him and in whom he could confide too, who respected him but never hesitated to challenge him.

In other words, he had found in his rival his first true friend.

The heady feeling of felicity he was vainly trying to suppress appeared like the clear evidence of this invaluable luck. It also left him unaware of what their game actually was: a prelude to the tremendous events that would irrevocably change their destiny.

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**[NOTES:**

_Daisho(u)_: set of weapons of a samurai, composed of a long sword (_katana_) and a shorter one (_wakizashi_).

_Honnou-ji_: on this episode of Japan, Go and Hikaru's history, please read again the last pages of HnG vol. 6 & 8.

_Ringu_: who's never heard about Hideo Nataka's horror classic? (I won't comment on the useless remake...)

_Jaa ne_: "See you." Much less formal and ominous than _sayonara_.

--

You weren't expecting a new chapter this soon, were you?

Actually, I had most of it written as the second half of chapter 7, when I realized it was growing really big, so it eventually became a whole chapter on its own. I also thought there was a little too much of just Hikaru and Akira in the recent chapters (though there can _never _be too much of them for some people, so I hope they enjoy this one), thus I inserted the piece with Waya & Co instead. Waya's my favorite character, by the way, strange I don't write more about him.

Though I made it clear this fic is not shounen ai, I took a certain pleasure parodying usual situations of the genre. You'll forgive me this impish whim (or not).

Many thanks to all my reviewers, I'll now use FFnet reply feature to express my gratitude to each of you personally (hope I've not forgotten anyone from previous chapter!).

As for chapter 9, I can't make any promise. What's certain is I _want_ to complete this story, so if you find no update in the next six months, you can just assume I'm dead or something. Even so I'm not sure I wouldn't return like Sai to haunt somebody and finish it!

Valérien


	9. Master and Disciple

_Disclaimers_: Hikaru no Go _and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning_: spoilers everywhere!

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**9. Master and Disciple**

* * *

When Fuku heard the knock of the cane on the floor, it was already too late, yet he childishly tried to hide the magazine under a pile of order forms. Fukui Satoshi quietly passed along the counter, stopped next to Fuku and grabbed the whole pack of paper. 

"Ah, those are the orders to be delivered tomorrow morning," he said, leafing through the forms. "Everything's ready?"

"Yes, Jii-san," Fuku mumbled hopelessly.

"Fine. And what's that? _Weekly Go_... Hmm, looks like someone's yielded to old temptations. Will he ever get rid of them, I wonder..."

The voice was more sarcastic than really threatening, but Fuku slumped down on his stool in despair.

"It's not really about Go..." he began.

"What was I thinking, of course you only read it for the ads!" the master smirked.

"No..."

Fukui Satoshi shook his head:

"Yuuta-kun, it's almost been a year since you agreed to work with me. When you make a choice, you must hold to it. For now, it appears to me you're just dithering endlessly. Clinging to those things obviously doesn't help, you should realize that."

His gaze lowered, Fuku nodded obediently.

"Now, be a man and decide clearly: if you want to stay here and reach a respectable position, forget about your former life and move on. If you're to keep turning back every now and then, you may just leave at once. So, decide!"

The order brought tears in Fuku's eyes.

"Must I forget about my friends too?" he croaked.

Fukui Satoshi raised an eyebrow.

"I don't see the point..."

"My best friends are Go pros," Fuku sniffed. "I'm living far away from them now. By reading _Weekly Go_, I can see how they're doing, that way I kinda keep in touch with them ..."

"Can't you make new friends here?"

"I _do_ have friends here, Jii-san!" Fuku cried. "Onoki-san, Makoto-san and everybody in the area, they're kind and I'm okay with them. But why should I forget about my old pals? Because they all happen to play Go? Is it a crime?"

"A crime, certainly not, just a silly activity," Satoshi snorted.

"Does that make them lesser friends? You always praise Makoto-san for his good work, and you're right, but don't you know his former dream was to enter the baseball pro leagues? Isn't that another silly activity? Will you forbid him to look in the paper about his friends who play in the _Buffaloes_?"

Fukui Satoshi sighed. He was stern, but not insensitive.

"Leave Makoto out of that: I have higher expectations of you than of him. He's doing a good job in the shop, but that's all he'll ever do here."

He moved closer, locking Fuku's stare into his.

"What you learn every night, I teach to no-one but you, Yuuta. Those things are not to be taken light-heartedly, as you have realized on many occasions..."

Fuku shivered.

"It's scary, Jii-san," he squeaked.

He was even more scared when the old man banged the floor with his cane.

"You're scared as long as you remain ignorant! Learn about the things that scare you, then you can judge whether your fears are well founded or not!"

Satoshi laid a hand on his grandson's shoulder.

"And first..." he added in a softer voice, "learn to trust me, Yuuta-kun. Trust is essential between a master and his disciple, especially when they belong to the same kin. Do you really think I would let any harm happen to you, or ask you things above your strength or abilities?"

Fuku shook his head miserably.

"I know you can do it, Yuuta. You take your time to learn, but once it's in your head, it's in there for good. I'm confident in your skills, and you should be too. What I'm not certain of is your will to achieve your new position... If it's just a matter of fear, well, just get over it because it's what it takes for every boy to grow a man, whatever his way. You can't remain a child forever, Yuuta."

"I know..." Fuku muttered with a poor smile. Jii-san's words were not exactly comforting, but there was encouragement in them. Given his gramps' usual coldness, they sounded as close as tender as it was possible from him.

"By the way, don't think I punish you for loving Go. I don't even blame you for this. Considering your past situation, I'd say it was a _natural_ _way_ for you. Even so, you must move forward all the same."

The old master put the _Weekly Go_ issue back on the desk.

"You know what _this_ really is? It's no more than a stuffed bear, a toy you cling to because you're afraid of growing up, of moving ahead. As long as you rely upon this, you act like a child."

Fuku lowered his head in shame.

"Using it as a connection to your friends is even more stupid. It makes you think about them, but what makes them think about you in return if you don't have better ways to 'keep in touch', as you say? You'll end up losing them, that's all. Think about this, Yuuta-kun."

"I've been thinking about this all along," the plump boy muttered. Jii-san had put his finger right on his worst fear: that his old friends forget about him. Of course the magazine was not the true connection: Go was. Once he stopped sharing their common goals and hopes, what was left for him to relate to them?

"If you've finished here, go have a wash before supper," the master concluded, making for the stockroom. He paused just before the door:

"Yuuta-kun, you've just given me an idea for tonight's lesson."

* * *

Hundreds of kilometers east, Oka dropped back his last stone in the goke. 

"Maaan... I was so close!"

"One moku and a half, not so close!" Hikaru gently corrected. Oka huddled against the parapet, pouting.

On these summer evenings, the balcony adjoining his parents' apartment was an ideal place for their meetings: not very wide but pleasantly breezy, well above the traffic and its immediate pollution. There they played their games, refreshments close at hand, while the setting sun caressed their cheeks and adorned them with a delicate tan. For the moment, though, Oka did not enjoy it too much.

"Hey, time to review!" Hikaru called.

"I'm too disgusted..." the boy moaned, looking away.

"Sure you are, but to make good use of this game, you must review it with me, and face up your mistakes... and your good moves as well, you made excellent ones."

"Yeah, for what it's worth!" Oka snapped.

Hikaru raised an eyebrow: his shy and obedient disciple had never used him to such tantrums before. _Must be the stress from the coming exam._ He felt his duty was not to indulge Oka that kind of behavior, so he took a sharper tone:

"What d'you think I'm here for? Play games until you beat me? If you just want to win, find a Go club nearby and play there. If you want to improve and pass pro, stop being mad at me and learn from this game."

"I'm not mad at _you_, sensei!" Oka retorted. "I'm angry against myself! Such a good hand, and I can't even manage to keep the lead till the end! Oh, I so much want to hit that dingbat of me!"

He hit the balcony wall with the side of his fist instead.  
Hikaru smiled: _that_ he could understand.

"Aha... Looks like we've nerves to calm down..."

He looked around him, picked a black stone from the goke, then motioned Oka to the edge of the balcony. The boy reluctantly stood up. Nine floors beneath them, cars were cautiously going by the narrow street. Across the street was a small playground, where a few kids were having fun on the swings, carefully looked after by their moms.

"Look at where it's falling," Hikaru said.

Incredulous, Oka watched his master pitch the stone toward the playground. After a nice curb in the air, the piece of black glass vanished somewhere in the middle of it. There was absolutely no chance Oka could distinguish the tiny speck in that distant square of white dirt.

"You crazy," he stated blankly.

"Ramen for you if you find it before me."

Oka's eyes were still scanning the playground hopelessly.

"Make up your mind quickly or I might have to treat some kid down there instead," Hikaru added.

"Trade ramen for pizza and I'm in."

"...'kay."

Oka turned toward the living-room.

"Mom! Sensei and I are eating outside!"

A plump woman appeared, holding a pile of clothes:

"Really? Do Shindo-sensei agree?"

"If you give us permission, Oka-san," Hikaru answered, trying hard not to laugh.

Every time he spoke to his pupil's mother, somehow it sounded like he was talking to his own in a formal way—"_okaasan!_"— something he never did. He could not get used to it even now, but he was careful not to look or sound rude to the lady: he appreciated both her kindness and her ramen too much.

"Of course, Shindo-san," the woman smiled. She turned to her son: "Don't stay out too late, and be careful when you cross the streets!"

"Yeees, Mom..."

Oka's exasperation was palpable. _Boys will be boys, moms will be moms_, Hikaru thought with amusement.

"Take money from my purse if needed. Don't let your sensei pay for you!"

Oka threw a quick glance at Hikaru:

"We'll see that."

"What?"

"Nothing. We're going now."

Once they were out on the landing, the entrance door shut behind them, Oka stared at Hikaru:

"Do we start from out of the elevator?"

"Elevators are for losers!" Hikaru laughed, dashing into the staircase.

"Hey!"

Stunned at first, Oka desperately rushed after his master, who had already landed on the floor beneath. While Oka was sprinting as fast as the narrow staircase allowed him, Hikaru just kept enough distance to make sure his disciple was still following him. Luckily for them, most of the other residents were convenient losers who would avoid the stairs and the wild stampede of two disheveled teens charging down.

At one time though, Hikaru had to stop in his tracks as he heard a short splat behind him. Suddenly worried, he climbed up a few steps again. Having fallen flat on the upper floor, Oka was slowly picking himself up, sweating and panting. Hikaru put a knee down beside him, full of concern.

"Oka-kun, are you OK?"

Oka raised his gaze and flashed a grin. In less than a second, he was up on his feet and darting down the stairs again, leaving Hikaru in shock behind.

"You lil-!"

He should have known kids did not break so easily: it was not so long ago he had been thirteen too... What was so different now?

_He's the kid, I'm the responsible one, that's the difference. While he can still act as a kid, I must act responsible, and he's using it against me... Fair handicap, I guess._

That the quiet child dared play such tricks reminded Hikaru of his own behavior as a kid, and confirmed him in his almost-grown-up status as well. He could have easily overtaken the boy again, but thought better to keep slightly behind, so he could look after him.

When they burst out of the building, no car was in sight so they got straight across the street into the playground. Oka thought he had seen the stone fall somewhere near the left seesaw. He carefully ferreted around, ignoring the dubious glances from the kids playing on it, and the openly suspicious ones from their mothers on the benches. Hikaru pretended to search as well, just to keep Oka in the frenzy. It lasted for ten minutes before discouragement took their spirits over. With all the children's feet stomping around, their chances of success were rather scarce.

"Oka-kun, I've got it!"

Oka stood up from the back of a bench, watching Hikaru striding toward him, a white stone shining between his fingers.

"You think I'm an idiot? The stone you tossed was a _black _one!"

"Ah... yeah," Hikaru agreed sheepishly. "So I guess it's lost after all."

Oka rolled his eyes.

"Great! Next time, would you mind bringing your own pieces to throw around, sensei?"

"Sorry, I just wanted you to let steam off."

"No better idea than the silly _Raid for the Lost Stone_?"

Hikaru scratched the back of his head.

"We can always try push-ups, but you wouldn't find it nearly as fun. A punching bag is a real treat when you're mad—don't forget the gloves though, or you'll turn very sorry! If you ask me, I'd say there's nothing like a good home run, only sometimes broken china and unexpected developments ensue, so..."

Oka dejectedly stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I hate sports anyway."

"Ah, big mistake, my friend!" Hikaru sermonized. "Don't you know mind works better in a well-tended body? That's what my Go master used to tell me... and what I keep telling Touya, with no result..."

"Then Touya-san must have good reasons not to follow your advice," Oka snickered. "No offense, sensei, but with all your fitness, you still have to beat him in an official game."

"That'll do, insolent disciple," Hikaru replied with an acted reproving look. "You'd rather show me the way to that pizzeria; I don't know about you, but I'm starving right now."

"The bill is yours, then?" Oka asked cautiously.

"Of course, I'll never let my _deshi_ pay for me. On one condition: review!" Hikaru hammered out with a soft prod upon Oka's furrowed brow. The boy resigned:

"All right. Follow me, it's a few blocks away from here."

They walked away from the playground, giving up on the lost stone. Down the street, they entered a more animated area of the city. People were leaving their businesses to return home, their daily hurry dramatically impaired by the numbing sunset warmth. Neon lights and scrolling message boards were flashing all around, leaving no chance for the first stars to compete.

Hikaru nudged his pupil:

"So... feel better?"

Most of Oka's resent had been spilled in the frantic race. However, his master could cope with a little more grouching from him:

"Hardly. I still haven't caught my breath, and my shirt's sticking with sweat!"

"Take it off, then!"

"What? Right here in front of everybody?" Oka exclaimed.

"Yeah, why not?" Hikaru shrugged. "It's summer, it's hot... Who cares?"

"Don't you?"

"Absolutely not, look."

After he suited the action to the word, Hikaru casually slung his rolled shirt over his shoulder, exposing his chest in its seventeen year old glory. Oka quickly looked away, flushing:

"Geez, sensei!"

"What? It's not like we're about to meet important people or dine in a posh restaurant tonight. We're just planning a quiet stroll midtown, with a couple of pizzas to eat along—of course, we'll find a quiet place to review our game after that!" Hikaru added. "There's nothing I or you should be ashamed of."

"Still..."

"Come on, Oka! You're not yet like those old suits," Hikaru said, gesturing at a shoal of salarymen surging from a subway entrance. "You're young and carefree, it's your privilege, use it!"

"I'm not doing this where we may run into somebody I know!" Oka blurted.

Puzzled for a second, Hikaru burst out laughing.

"Oka-kun, you're ridiculous! What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is precisely that I'd look ridiculous," the boy muttered. For the moment, he just looked upset.

"You won't go through the pro exam if you're so bothered by what people may think of you, yunno?"

"It's not the same! I've already gone through two pro exams and as far as I remember, nobody plays shirtless!"

"Hahaha, a topless exam, excellent!" Hikaru chortled. "Especially with the girls!"

Oka could not help snorting briefly. Hikaru snapped his fingers, jumping on the crazy concept:

"OK, it's decided. Tonight, shirtless review!"

His declaration made surrounding people stare at him, and Oka move several steps away from his side.

"I don't know you anymore, sensei!" the boy piped up.

"If you want to eat pizza tonight, you'd better come back here, you big coward! Is it there?"

Hikaru was pointing to a vaguely Italian-looking lighted sign blinking further in the street. Oka nodded and reluctantly decreased the distance between them. At the restaurant, the guy behind the takeout counter took their orders without even noticing Hikaru's (lack of) dress. Most likely, his summer _baito_ had him see even funnier customers before.

While they were waiting for their pizza, Hikaru kept throwing mocking glances at Oka, whose wet striped shirt did not look ready to dry off anytime soon.

"I'm sure Shouji wouldn't have waited my advice to make himself comfortable..." he winked.

"You're playing dirty, sensei. I'm not falling for that!" Oka snapped, still looking away.

"Here it is, that'll be ¥1,450, please," the clerk said, pushing a flat box on the counter. Hikaru paid and took the pizzas away, while Oka carried the soft drink cans.

"I noticed a park nearby where we can eat and review quietly. Okay for you?"

Oka mumbled some indistinct answer.

"Look, Oka-kun," Hikaru said firmly. "I'm doing all this just so you loosen up a bit. I won't succeed if you're not willing to cooperate the least on your side."

Oka hunched his shoulders under the light rebuke, but nevertheless replied:

"Then why d'you keep nagging me, sensei! I already have Shouji for that, thanks!"

Hikaru chuckled.

"Komiya's right, you're an easily upset guy."

Oka huffed heavily. All of a sudden, he shoved the cans he was holding into the deep pockets of his pants, grabbed his shirt at the bottom, and with a lot of struggling since it was so wet, took it completely off. Then he planted himself before Hikaru, a defiant glint in his eyes:

"You happy now?"

"Should I be?" Hikaru replied, amused.

"I dunno, you so much wanted to see me half-naked!"

The loud retort taught Hikaru one important thing about shy people: when pushed over a certain threshold, they turn into the brashest fellows imaginable, if only for a moment. He felt the temperature significantly fall around him, except for his head, currently facing a sudden surge of blood. Some people around had begun to turn suspicious stares toward them. Hikaru was already foreseeing endless explanations at the nearest police booth, so he steadied his grip on the pizza box, grasped Oka's wrist with his free hand, and quickly drove them out of that specific part of the crowd.

Two blocks and turns further, they slowed their pace. Hikaru was now as sweaty as his younger companion.

"Geez, Oka..." he puffed, catching his breath.

Oka bit his lip in a vain attempt to stifle a grin, and that did not escape Hikaru's notice.

"Okay, I guess you're not upset anymore?"

The boy freed his grin.

"I was, but now we're quits."

Hikaru grinned too.

"Now little rascal, don't you feel lighter?"

"After watching your face earlier, sure, sensei!" Oka smirked.

Hikaru winced. What his disciple had needed was not so much physical exercise as a good laugh at his master's expense.

"You know I'm not talking about that," he said, softly jabbing him on the chin.

Oka had to admit the warm air on his bare skin was really pleasant.

"Yeah, I guess so..."

"We're not the only ones without shirts anyway, look at those guys over there..."

Oka's gaze followed the direction of Hikaru's head jerk. Three shirtless young men on roaring bikes were chatting loudly at the street corner.

"You've not picked the best examples, sensei. Mom doesn't pay you to turn me into a bad boy."

"I know what I do, Oka. I'm here to turn you into a hell of a Go champion, and I'll do so. Bad boy is just a side effect."

Oka laughed, his good mood nearly recovered.

"You don't mind if we both look like members of the Baggy Pants Gang?"

Hikaru winced again, remembering certain comment from Touya.

"Tell me, Oka... you don't wear those because of me, do you?"

"It's been my style before I even heard about your name," Oka rejoined. "I'm your _deshi_, not some stupid fanboy!"

Anger was rising again in his voice.

"Right, sorry for asking," Hikaru answered soothingly.

An awkward silence fell between them, despairingly reminding Hikaru that tact was definitely not one of his better personal qualities.

Oka spoke again after a while:

"I'm not stupid as to try to be or even just look like you. I know I'm nowhere near as cool as you are."

The bitter voice alone gave Hikaru a fair idea of the level of insecurity his disciple concealed, but he was short of words to bring him out of himself.

"You really think I'm cool?" was all he came up with.

"Don't you see all the gals peeping at you?"

Truly, if Hikaru had bothered to bear the quick glances from passing women around them, he would have noticed very few of them were disapproving.

"Ah yeah, they're admiring us."

"They're admiring _you_, sensei," Oka rectified. Then, in a whisper: "You must have it easy with them..."

Hikaru blushed.

"That's not your business, Oka," he replied a bit too curtly.

"_Gomen, sensei_," the boy said at once.

Once again, awkwardness divided them. Hikaru was really tired of it, and Oka's apology allowed him to take _sente_ in the talk:

"You shouldn't think so low about yourself, Oka-kun," he said on a tone as neutral as possible. "You're thirteen, you've got plenty of time to grow attractive. At your age, I wasn't even thinking about girls, and I doubt they were much interested in me," he added in total oblivion—of course, Akari did not count the least. "Though Nase-san recently admitted I made a rather cute insei..."

Oka half-smiled.

"Yeah, she said the same to me. With my usual luck, maybe I'll manage to catch some old perv's interest?"

The self-deriding line sounded not so bitter, and Hikaru felt encouraged.

"If that happens, tell me, I'll make sure the bastard lose it fast. Anyway, that's not our business either. Our business tonight is pizza and Go!" Hikaru claimed. "Gals and pervs are not allowed in our gang!"

"_Hai,_ _aniki!_" Oka agreed, beaming.

Hikaru grinned back and offered his five. Oka merrily hit them, his own hang-ups completely put aside. For all his lack of sensitivity, Shindo-sensei had this way of always turning things on the positive side. He was so cool, and somehow he managed to spray some of his coolness upon people around him, so that Oka could feel cool himself just by strolling bare-chested at his side. It was self-deluding but it felt good, and Oka loved him for that.

Meanwhile, the only child within Hikaru was fantasizing about what life could have been with a little bro.

* * *

"You want me to do _what_?" 

Sitting seiza on the porch next to the garden, the master and the disciple were facing each other like every evening after dinner.

"Yuuta, you've perfectly understood and I won't repeat just because you're amazed as usual," Fukui Satoshi said. "I suppose you know about your friends' birthdays?"

"Uh, not all of them..."

"Of course, that's why I tell you to pick only three or four of your friends, those you know best, to draw their birth charts up. You have all the equipment you need at hand," the master said, waving to the scrolls, pens, compasses and rulers set beside his grandson. "The rest is up to you."

He stroke his beard in a clearly self-satisfied way.

"It's been a while since we last worked on astrology. I think this little exercise makes more sense if applied to people you know, instead of random clients, don't you agree?"

"Sure, but..."

"But what?"

Fuku twitched his fingers.

"I know their dates of birth, but not the hours and places. My birth charts will remain incomplete..."

The old man nodded:

"Correct. You have two solutions: you can call your friends and directly ask about the missing information..."

Fuku imagined the call: _"Hello Waya, whassup? Fancy a horoscope? Just gimme your date of birth, with the exact hour and location, if you remember. Then please put your mother on, so I can get your conception parameters and check if you're really meant to be born a guy..."_

"No way," he moaned by himself.

"... or you just ignore it and work on assumptions, like they're all born in Tokyo at noon. It's useful to learn how to deal with missing data, though we rarely encounter the case. Yes, it's even better: thus, you can formulate hypotheses, based on the knowledge and experience you have of your friends. What do you think of that?"

Fuku sighed in relief. Although it meant extra work for him, at least he was spared a huge deal of embarrassment.

"Fine, Jii-san. How much time I have to complete all this?"

"Take the time you need. I'll have a first look at your work tomorrow night."

"All right, Jii-san," Fuku complied.

The whole idea looked rather odd at first, but he recognized his grandfather's efforts to make the matter more appealing to him. It might even be fun.  
At least, it was a quiet exercise, if a bit tedious, and not scary at all compared to other practical works he had already been put into...

"Oh, Yuuta-kun..."

"Yes, Jii-san?" Fuku tensed.

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to include in your list the young tourist you guided for half a day... What was his name again?"

"Touya Akira? But I don't know him as well as the others..."

The master stroke his beard again, pensively this time.

"Keep him anyway. The lad's interesting..."

* * *

At this hour of evening, especially in the hot season, most of the benches in the park were monopolized by sweet couples at various stages of romance. A plenty good enough of a reason for the young Go master and his even younger disciple to avoid them like the plague. 

Pizzas and drinks long disposed of, the two players were lying on a soft patch of grass behind a lamp post, using their shirts as a mat under their elbows. They were closely facing each other, but the small magnetic goban between them left no misunderstanding about their intentions.

"... and once that cluster is secured, you just consolidate your territories on the side. I can't make it with my main group and I'm forced to resign at this stage," Hikaru concluded.

Oka brushed aside a lock of hair from his eyes.

"Yup, it could have been a good game for me, if only..."

"If only you hadn't been too frightened by your good luck!" Hikaru sniggered.

Right after that, he mentally slapped his mischievous self and corrected:

"Sorry, luck is not the word; this move of yours was _very_ cunningly introduced. Actually..." He squinted at Oka. "_I'm_ the one who makes up such tricks... Does that mean my Go is _already_ rubbing off onto yours?"

"Already... It's only a few weeks we work together, sensei, but remember I've been studying your games for two years!" Oka said, slightly blushing.

"Of course. That makes you a pretty good student, I guess..."

"So, does that mean the disciple is catching up on the master?" Oka smirked.

_For the moment, it means I must prevent this little success from going to his head, _Hikaru thought.

"Don't rejoice too fast. Now I'm aware of what you can do, I won't let you have your way so easily in our future games!"

"Yeah, that's why I so much wanted to win today," Oka sighed. "I don't know what I'll do next time..."

Hikaru sat up and gazed at him gravely.

"Oka-kun, you're a big liar."

"Uh?"

Oka goggled at his master, startled. Hikaru waited a bit for his words to make their full effect before going on:

"If, like you say, you had wanted _this much_ to win against me, you'd be less disappointed in yourself now."

"How can you say that, sensei?" Oka protested. "Haven't I made it clear enough I wanted victory?"

"No, and from whatever side I look at it, it's clear to me that your loss today comes down to a lack of self-confidence."

Oka instantly lowered his stare and frowned. Although Hikaru was still a teenager, he had enough maturity to rightly interpret the reaction as Oka's backing away from a problem he was altogether very conscious of, so he insisted:

"You must think I'm repeating myself, but it's true, Oka, and you know it. We can't pass over it because you don't like it being said aloud."

"It's not easy to stay confident against you..." the other boy mumbled.

Hikaru moved closer.

"Tell me, why is it so uneasy?"

Oka swayed on his elbows in his own unease. Why did Shindo-sensei want him so much to tell the obvious truth?

"... 'cause you're cool, strong... and a genius," he blurted out.

In no honest way Hikaru could deny the pleasure such adjectives applied to his person aroused. However, as a teacher he was not supposed to gloat in front of his pupil, rather give him the example of modesty. In his current attire, he was badly engaged enough.

"Forget about coolness, Oka," he said, shaking his head. "First, I'm not the coolest guy you'll ever meet on this Earth; I know someone from middle school much better ranked for that title. He's even very good at Go... yet for all his coolness he's no match against a First Class insei like you—unless you allow him a fair handicap. As for the genius thing... well, thanks, Oka, but I don't consider myself as such either. If you want to see a _real_ genius, meet Kurata instead."

Oka raised his stare again, shocked:

"Kurata-sensei? That big oaf?"

Hikaru laughed.

"He sure is big, at the head and elsewhere, but d'you know what he was doing before starting Go?"

Hikaru briefly summarized for Oka how he had discovered Kurata's former life as a prodigy horse gambler.

"... once he had his mind focused on Go, he was pro in no time, and now you see, he's strong enough to snatch the Gosei from Ogata."

"Wow, I had no idea of all this," Oka admitted. "He never looked so bright to me."

"Yeah, I guess it's a part of his strategy. I've always been careful as to never underestimate him, but I'm not afraid of him either. Which brings us back to our problem."

He pointed a finger right on Oka's breastbone:

"_You must stop fearing me!_"

He said it so intensely that Oka gulped.

"I... I don't really fear you, sensei!"

His stammer belied his words.

"You fear my Go, all the same. When you dared play your decisive _kikashi_ in today's game, you were so proud of yourself, and rightly so. Yet just afterwards, you started to fear my retaliation, and went on playing with this idea in the back of your mind that I'd never let you win whatsoever. Am I wrong, Oka?"

Oka nodded silently. Shindo-sensei amazed him with the clear insight he had of his thought process in the game. As if he had perceived the silent question, Hikaru smiled:

"I know it, because I stumbled on the exact same problem with my first master. As my Go senses were refining, I started to fear his moves, his 'blade', as he liked to call it. Suddenly, I was much less daring in my play, and I would restrain myself, against him and the other insei. So much so that I plummeted to the bottom of Class Two in a couple of weeks. I let you guess my despair..."

Oka was all ears. He had never heard an elder pro talk so freely about his experience as a student, especially the hardship parts of it. The mention of a "first master" apparently not related to Morishita-sensei intrigued him a little, but he dared not interrupt Shindo-sensei on such a detail.

"I had no clue what to do, just like you, Oka. Now I'll give you the same advice I received from my master: _think clearly_ and stop fearing me! _Turn that fear into courage!_" Hikaru spoke adamantly.  
"What you'll do next time? I'll tell you, Oka.  
You gonna step forth and walk against me with all that you have.  
You gonna reach for the best of your strength and push the boundaries of your game, each time further, to fight me!  
You'll take blows, and give some back,  
I'll make you eat dust but you'll rise again and again!  
...till the fearless come," he ended in a whisper.

Years after, Hikaru vividly remembered the vibrant words that took him out of his losing streak and boosted him up to his first Wakajishisen. Along with the few energetic ones of his own, they would hopefully serve their purpose again to ignite Oka's gusto as well.

He was disappointed.  
Whether Oka and the thirteen-years-old Hikaru were really too different boy types, or an aristocratic ghost in an ethereal robe had not the same impact as a sculptural teenager in the flesh, the fact remains that the awestruck boy made no instant demand for a revenge game, gaping instead at his sensei in a way verging on sheer adoration.  
Far from being delighted, Hikaru found it slightly disturbing.

"Why, don't gawk at me like that," he said, reddening.

With a start, Oka diverted his gaze.

"Sorry, sensei. Don't think I wasn't paying attention; it's just you had me entranced with your speech and your scary look..."

"If you think I'm scary, I'll bring you Touya, so you know what it actually means. By the way, wasn't he your favorite before?"

Oka blushed in turn.

"Who told you that? Komiya-san, again?" he asked, annoyed. Hikaru confirmed with a grin. "What a blabbermouth!" (Hikaru openly laughed.) "Yeah, I admired Touya-san a lot, especially after his brilliant games in the first Hokuto Cup. Of course, Shouji had to annoy me and support you instead, so I may have been... a bit unfair in my comments about you..." Oka blurted.

Knowing Komiya, Shindo-sensei was most likely informed of those embarrassing facts. Besides, he seemed to take it rather lightly:

"Oh well, I can't deny I've lost those games..."

"However I changed my mind when I had to face you at the Young Lions Tournament!" Oka quickly added. "Shouji too after the punishment he received from Touya-san! Now the idiot only swears by him, after claiming for days you were the better one, can you believe it, sensei?"

An amused gleam passed in Hikaru's eyes. Oka was all too glad to charge Shouji as a diversion.

"What about you, Oka? Who d'you think the better player is _now_?"

"Must I really answer?" Oka mumbled, while an inconvenient drop of sweat was running down his temple, making him look more embarrassed than he really was.

"Yeah, yeah, speak your mind, friend," Hikaru insisted, leaning his chin on his crossed hands in an interested manner.

"Now... Touya's better," Oka confessed with a meek smile.

Hikaru's head dropped.

"Ah, Oka, you're so cruel to your master!" he lamented, shaken by pretended sobs.  
"But I guess you're right... for now," he added, raising his head and winking.

Oka laughed.

"Don't worry, you're still the cooler one, sensei!"

"Like I said, one doesn't need to be cool to be strong at Go... though it does no harm. Touya is very cool in his own ways, yunno?"

"If you say so..."

They remained short of words for a moment.  
Oka's gaze wandered over the stone patterns on the pocket Go board. Hikaru was rolling blades of grass around his forefinger.

"So... no regrets?" Hikaru eventually asked.

"About what, sensei?"

"About having chosen me as your sensei, precisely."

Oka raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, instead of Touya-san?"

"Touya doesn't take disciples... or so he says," Hikaru snorted. "No, I'm just asking in general... You had a master before me, after all."

Oka nodded. His former master was an old fogy in a dull-grey suit reeking of cold tobacco (and the matching breath), who had little time to spare with a bunch of subservient followers fighting to catch his precious attention.

His new sensei was young, very cool, extremely bright, presently not smelling worse than juvenile sweat and pepperoni flavor, and not bad looking to boot. He devoted up to five hours a week to his only disciple, offering him the most exciting games ever. Besides, he did not consider beneath him to share his hopes and his doubts, as well as teen jokes and video game hints.  
What better master an insei could possibly dream of? It was like a shounen manga come true!

"Honestly, sensei, from whatever side I look at it," Oka declared, mimicking Hikaru's speech, "it's clear to me that I should have asked you _long ago_! And I'll never thank you enough for accepting me!"

The sincerity of his words moved Hikaru deeply. The 3-dan stopped the grass curling to stare right at him.

"Oka, this is really important to me... You know, I never had any disciple before you. Actually, I never thought I'd tutor someone so early in my Go career. You told me once that your former master warned you against this... I'll tell you friends of mine warned me too. This is really different from normal shidougo sessions with people I hardly see more than once. As long as it comes to Go, sure I can teach you but..."

Oka straightened up, an awful foreboding freezing his blood.

"Sensei... you... you don't want us to stop, do you?"

"No, no, don't worry, Oka," Hikaru assured. "All I mean is... Well, despite what I told your earlier, there are times when I'm not sure I'm doing right. Just like today: I never expected you to feel bad about that stupid shirt-or-no-shirt thing. I just wanted us to be relaxed, and you must have thought I was showing off or something. I really must stop comparing you with the guy I was four years ago, and learn to know you better instead. See, Oka, I'm afraid you have to teach me how to be a good master..."

Oka sighed in relief.

"You're doing very well now, sensei. First, as a show-off, you're _very_ far from beating Shouji. Then, unlike my former master, you always talk straight and clear. I do think I'm really making progress with you as my master; I feel really... yunno, _coached_."

The word made Hikaru smile:

"Haha, coached... Would you let your coach suggest you a little more sport practice, then?" he winked.

"If you plan a run back home, forget it, sensei," Oka replied, a flame lighting in his eyes. "Right now, after your speech, I feel more like boxing!"

Hikaru grinned.

"Yeah, that's the spirit! Another time though; you're right, we should go back now before your mother starts worrying."

He started gathering the stones into the folding Go board compartment. Oka stood up and brushed the random blades of grass off his shirt. Seeing the boy hesitate at this point, Hikaru inserted the small board in a pocket and donned his own black shirt, imitated soon by his disciple. No comment was uttered and they quietly made for the park exit.

They were halfway to Oka's home when the insei shyly spoke again:

"Sensei..."

"Hmm?"

"When you say you're not a genius..." Oka began. "I think _that_ is not true."

Hikaru shrugged but made no reply. The boy went on:

"I told you when I asked you to master me, Shindo-sensei: I've been watching your games from the time you crushed me at the Young Lions Tournament. Mainly, they reflect your winning drive... as well as your tactical shrewdness. Yet there are times, especially in critical situations, when you come up with a totally unexpected move, that one would find illogical at first, or the result of nervousness, but later on it always turns out to be incredibly deep and sensible... Not only that, but long afterwards, you can't help thinking it was _the only appropriate move_ to be played. Isn't it what we call genius, sensei?"

Hikaru swallowed hard. Emotion was swelling again inside him, this time stronger and from deeper within.

"Sometimes it's just not enough," he said in a strangled voice.

"Sure, players like Ko Yong-ha or Touya Akira keep winning because they have a better mastering of the whole game. But I have yet to see them—or anyone—play those wonderful hands of yours!" Oka declared, getting fiery. "For now, Touya and Ko are better than you, but I have no doubt you _will_ surpass them! It's no flattery from your faithful disciple, sensei: I _do_ think you're a genius. Or if you aren't, _there's a genius inside you_."

Hikaru stopped dead on his tracks, thunderstruck. Oka turned to him, a questioning look on his face.

"Sensei?"

His heart pounding, Hikaru made a step toward his disciple.

"Oka-kun... You've seen..."

Oka smiled:

"I've seen your flashes of brilliance, and I feel comforted in my way: _this_ is the Go I love, _this_ is the Go I want to play! You're right, sensei: if I want to conquer this... this _beauty_, I must stop escaping, and face you without fea- Uh? Sensei?"

Hikaru hands had gripped Oka's shoulders. Oka was hardly able to distinguish his master's face under the bleached bangs, but he could feel his arms slightly shaking.

Hikaru had the street light falling right on Oka. Yet what he saw before him was not a skinny boy in striped tee-shirt and baggy pants.

In the cone of light was standing his sparkling future.

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**[NOTES:**

_Kinsetsu Buffaloes_: Osaka's main baseball team

_Deshi_: pupil, follower, apprentice.

_Baito_: part-time job (from German "arbeit")

_Sente_: someone _sente_ has the initiative in the game. Also qualifies a move or a position.

_Aniki_: honorable term used for an older brother or a superior, especially in a yakuza gang. Well known among Takeshi Kitano's fans.

_Kikashi_: "forcing move"; a _sente_ hand with some additional effect (Sensei's Library).

--

Oh my. It's _been_ six months (at least) since the previous chapter, and I'm not dead—just a few health issues (nothing serious in the end) and a job change. I won't bore you with my everyday pains, just say that even in these election days, I can't venture any promise regarding the next chapter.

Your reviews are always welcome and keep me on track; I make sure I answer to each of them when I can (i.e. when it's signed). Special message to _allythealto_ (to whom I can't reply directly): you'd hate to see this story die? So do I, don't worry, and thanks for the incentive!

I'm also very grateful for the reviews on my previous fics I keep receiving once in a while. Pardon again the strain on your patience and thank you _a lot_ for your support!

Now, for chapter 10!

Valérien


	10. The Value of a Friend

_Disclaimers:_ Hikaru no Go_ and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans._

_Warning:_ spoilers everywhere! Mild language. Hikaru having guy interests.

**The Way of Go**  
by VKempf

**10. The Value of a Friend**

* * *

_Second street on the left after the stadium... Must be that one._

If really the so-called "stadium" was that modest area with the running track Akira had just walked by a minute ago, he was most likely on the right way. From there, the two-storied little house was easily found, so Akira folded Hikaru's map up, a photocopy of it to be precise: the original had been sketched on the back of the kifu recording their Moonlight Game, and of course was too precious to be risked on any gust. Not that it was really windy—quite the opposite—but well, you never know...

Despite Shindo's incredibly awful writing, the way to his place had been rather easy to find. It was five o'clock when Akira passed the fenced gate and rang the doorbell, right on time. Indistinct voices heard from the window above the roof canopy stopped for seconds. Shindo's was instantly recognizable; was he talking to someone?

The opening door left Akira no time to ponder on that. He quickly bowed to the middle-aged woman standing in the doorway:

"Greetings, Shindo-san, my name is Touya Akira. I'm sorry to disturb you; your son-"

"Yes, come in, Touya-kun!" Shindo Mitsuko bade at once. "Hikaru told me about your visit." She stepped aside to let the boy in. "Hikaru! Touya-kun's here!" she called out, while Akira was leaving his docksides in the genkan.

"Let him come upstairs and join us!" her son yelled from inside his room.

Akira frowned._ Us?_

"Hikaru..." Mitsuko sighed. She turned to the young pro: "I'm sorry, whatever I tell him, I can't get him to behave correctly!"

"It's OK, Shindo-san, I'm used to his ways."

"No, really, he makes me so ashamed sometimes! I'm glad he meet friends like you, Touya-kun. Or like his nice little disciple, who's already here."

"Aha..." Akira just uttered wryly.

"Go's such a strange world," Mitsuko went on. "Hikaru's not even eighteen, and he's already tutoring a disciple, can you imagine that?... What am I saying? Of course you can, you're a professional too; you must think I'm completely silly. If Hikaru heard me, I guess _he_'d be the one ashamed..."

"Not at all, Shindo-san. My mother is often at a loss herself when Father and I talk about our job."

"You're too kind, Touya-kun. And how're your parents doing? Hikaru told me they travel abroad, leaving you all by yourself, is it possible?"

"My parents are doing fine, thank you. Don't worry about me, I have friends coming home to help. By the way..." Akira bowed, remembering his promise. "Thank you very much for your delicious curry, Shindo-san. It was really kind of you to treat us like this."

"Oh, you're so welcome, Touya-kun," Mitsuko blushed. "I couldn't let Hikaru go empty-handed since he was sleeping over at your place. I also thought you two wouldn't take too much of your study time for cooking."

Though obviously less sophisticated, Shindo's mother was made after the same caring model as Touya Akiko, and the same kindness shone through her eyes. Akira's features softened.

"That was so thoughtful of you, Shindo-san, all the more since it's the second time: we also greatly appreciated your cooking two years ago, though I confess we didn't duly thank you because of the Hokuto Cup stress. Please let me apologize for that oversight."

"It's really nothing," Mitsuko muttered in embarrassment. She was getting more and more impressed by the young man.

_Hikaru's so different, it's hard to believe he gets along with this little prince, _she thought with an approving glance at Akira's attire: a white linen open-necked shirt and beige trousers of the same fabric, that gave him a comfortable yet elegant casualness. The boy himself was not bad-looking at all despite a really unfashionable haircut. With a cheerier face, he would likely be irresistible.

"Touyaaa! What'you doin'?" the same shrilly voice shouted from upstairs.

"Hikaru! Stop with the rudeness already! You should at least come down and welcome our guest!"

An exasperated groan was the only answer. Mitsuko shook her head in despair:

"It's hopeless. I'm so sorry I don't know what to say, Touya-kun."

"There's really no problem, Shindo-san. If I had to take offence every time Shindo-kun is or sounds rude, I guess we'd never meet," Akira joked.

"Yes, he'll be the shame of us all till the end," Mitsuko sighed. Only then Akira realized his off-handed comment on his rival was a little cutting for her. A quick correction was called for:

"However, save his behavior, you have every reason to be proud of your son, Shindo-san. His accomplishments do not go unnoticed, in Japan and abroad. One day he may become not only your pride, but the pride of our whole nation." _Along with me, _Akira added for himself after his lofty declaration.

Mitsuko goggled at him.

"You're not speaking seriously, are you?"

Akira looked straight in her eyes.

"I'm always serious when it comes to Go. But please don't repeat it to him, Shindo-san, or I'll never hear the end of it."

"O...of course, Touya-kun," Mitsuko stammered, her face going a delicate pink again.

Who ever told Akira that the best way to win a mother's heart is to praise her only son? Nobody actually. He had not been living enough to sink very deep into cynicism. His commendation, though a little overdone because of his natural courtesy, was genuine. With immediate effect: from then on, Shindo Mitsuko would never let anyone speak ill of the sweet, gentle—and quite dashing—Touya Akira.

"I won't keep you any longer, you must want to meet the boys."

"If you allow me."

"Just go upstairs, Hikaru's door is the one open on your right, you'll find easily. If you need anything, feel free to ask me or Hikaru."

"Thank you very much, Shindo-san."

After a last bow, Akira made for the wooden stairs. He had been quite anxious to meet Shindo at his place, but his anticipation was now severely dampened by the unexpected presence of the "disciple". Shindo's unwillingness to welcome him was not very encouraging either.

He straightened up as he reached the upper landing. A clear laughter from behind a door ajar froze him on the spot. His right hand still clutching the banister, Akira stayed eavesdropping for a short moment, trying to make sense of the conversation currently going on between the boys:

"What would you choose, then?" a high-pitched voice asked.

"Hmm, dunno, depends of the place," Shindo's lower tone replied.

"So, which place?" and they both burst into a long laugh.

The piece of talk made little sense to Akira, but it did not sound like he was involved. A bit ashamed, he took a good breath, rapped on the door and stepped in the room.

"At last, Touya! How long does it take you to climb a dozen steps?" Hikaru cracked from behind his disciple, who had his back to Akira. The goban between them was covered with stones: obviously, one game or more had preceded their chit-chat.

"I was busy paying my respects to your mother, if you don't mind. Good afternoon, by the way," Akira replied crossly.

"Yeah, hi."

The other boy was more deferential:

"Good afternoon, Touya-san!" he said, standing up and bowing. Akira just answered with a nod.

"You already know Oka, my disciple?"

"Yes, you two meet on Wednesdays, _usually_," Akira observed.

"Right. Since I've got a couple of hours to kill till you come, I'm giving Oka an extra training session... You don't mind, do you?"

"Absolutely not," Akira replied quietly. _Of course I mind!_ his emotional self bellowed inside.

"Fine! So you wouldn't mind doing me a favor?"

"What kind of favor?"

"First, sit down, you make me feel giddy standing so high above us," Hikaru smirked. Oka was polite enough to stifle his chuckle.

Akira quickly went through a list of possible reactions: smack the top of Shindo's head, blow a fuse, not react, come out with a good quip. The first option was by far the most tempting, but the last one was obviously the best, only it took a few seconds more to implement.

"Sorry for you dwarf," Akira retorted, looking straight at the 3-dan as he sat down in a very strict _seiza _by the right side of the goban. It was coming a tad too late to be really effective, but Hikaru gave it credit nonetheless:

"You're mean, Touya; Oka-kun's not _that_ small."

Oka made no comment, but tossed a Go stone right on his master's nose. Hikaru merely brushed it and flashed a mischievous grin toward his disciple. Akira, whom those expressions of connivance irked, coughed.

"So the favor I'm asking you, Touya–"

"I'm already sitting."

"Nah, not that! Before Oka leaves us, I'd like him to play a game with you, no problem?"

"Eh?" Oka hiccupped.

"So, is it okay, Touya?" Hikaru insisted.

Akira frowned, feeling entrapped. Oka did not look enthused at all either.

"You really don't have to, Touya-san," he mumbled, throwing a fearful glance at the 5-dan's steel face.

Akira ignored him, he would not have an insei telling him what to do or not do. What was Shindo's plan? Did he want to pride himself on mastering a disciple, or to show the kid how he talked on equal terms with _Touya the Great_, as Yashiro dubbed him? Very childish in either way... For a second, Akira considered refusing the game. On the other hand, he was curious to see how good "Shindo's disciple" actually was.

"All right... but we won't play and discuss it for ever. We have studies, remember?" he added with an intent stare at his rival.

"Thanks, Touya! And don't go soft on him, he's in great need to become stronger!"

"Sensei!" Oka shouted in alarm.

"You'll thank me later, Oka," Hikaru winked.

"Maaan..." the boy mumbled with a hangdog expression on his face. Touya-san already looked pretty peeved; why Shindo-sensei had to throw him straight into the tiger's claws?

Hikaru pushed the goban in between the two others, while they were removing the stones covering it.

"I take white, you begin," Akira decided. They all knew who was the obvious challenger, so no time to lose with nigiri. Shindo had practically granted his rival license to kill, and Akira was going to make sure the kill would be fast...

Fast it was, though the kid was better game than expected. After nailing him on every area of the goban, Akira gave him the finishing blow:

"Much too aggressive. You won't go anywhere if you can't restrain yourself. Here, your ko threat, I can't decide whether it's a mistake or a very naive move. Ludicrous either way."

Oka just nodded helplessly. Hikaru stood by his side:

"I don't agree. If you consider-"

"Think what you want, I warned you I won't discuss this game," Akira snapped, crossing his arms.

Hikaru threw a long stare at him before shaking his head:

"Come on, Oka. I walk you downstairs."

The boy quickly nodded at his opponent, stood out and passed the door without turning back. Hikaru shut it behind them, leaving Akira alone in his room.

* * *

Oka looked pretty downbeat.

"Anything's wrong, Oka-kun?" Mitsuko asked at the foot of the stairs.

"No, Shindo-san, thank you for everything," he managed to say.

"You're always welcome, dear," Mitsuko smiled, before retreating to the kitchen.

"Sure you are!" Hikaru merrily confirmed. "Next week we'll try to find a few hours for another extra, here or elsewhere. Remember, it's on me; your mother doesn't have to pay for it."

"Thank you very much, sensei."

"Don't pull this face!" Hikaru laughed. "Was it so terrible?"

"Oh man..." Oka groaned. "I almost feel sorry for Shouji now! D'you think Touya-san was upset because of me, sensei?"

Hikaru shrugged.

"Touya's an orderly guy, so he's always bothered when something doesn't go as planned... He'd better get used to it with me!"

"What about my game? Was that move really silly, sensei?"

"I don't think so, I kinda guess your intention behind, a shame you weren't able to exploit it. Truly, your forcing moves had no chance to work against Touya, but you couldn't know unless you had my experience with the man."

He opened the front door for his disciple, friendly patting his back:

"This loss is of no importance anyway, so just chill out!"

"I should have done better..." the boy muttered glumly.

In a lower voice, so they would not be overheard by Akira through the open windows above, Hikaru confided:

"Oka, let's be clear: I've never expected you to beat Touya today—gee, I'd be seriously worried about myself if you had! I just wanted to see you show some fighting spirit, in the gist of our yesterday talk, remember? At the exam and later on, you'll meet players that are incredibly strong, or awfully scary. Touya's both at the same time, so this game was a perfect test. A test you've just passed."

"Ah?"

"Yeah, you were scared stiff, but you didn't chicken out. Touya left you no opening, but you fought nonetheless, and bravely so!"

The insei blushed.

"I think I was more afraid of disappointing you, sensei."

"Well, you didn't. I'm proud of you, Oka-kun!"

Oka's heart leaped. With those few words, Shindo-sensei had magically turned a grim disaster into a heroic feat. After that, the boy would readily follow his master on a carpet of red ambers, on the moon surface, or buck naked between two lines of giggling girls. Beaming, he held out his right fist toward Hikaru:

"Genius will prevail, sensei!"

"Yeah right!" Hikaru grinned, pressing the fist with his left one.

He bestowed Oka a last wave as the kid was walking away. Then he climbed the stairs quite angrily and burst into his room, where Akira was still sitting at the same place.

"If the game bothered you so much, just say 'maybe another time', I'd have understood, yunno?" he attacked at once.

"You asked me a favor, you had it, Shindo," Akira replied equally as straight. "You also told me not to go soft-"

"I know what I told you! I won't pick on your play, it was perfect! A bit sadistic on the side, but exactly what I wanted for Oka. I don't remember asking you the after-game flaming!"

"Sorry, perhaps my comments were a little harsh?" Akira smirked, which got Hikaru really upset.

"Not just harsh, they were unfair! His move-"

"Shindo, for the third time, I-"

"You won't discuss it, I know!" Hikaru cut, infuriated. "You'd rather have a study? Fine!"

He briskly shifted a large part of the stones covering the goban, leaving only a quarter of them:

"Here's Oka's move that makes the ko, and your answer. Naive, you say? Lemme tell you a whole new story. _Onegaishimas'!_"

That said, he smashed a black stone and waited, his nostrils flaring, his face almost as fiery as his red tee-shirt.

Akira withstood his glare for a while, then took up the gauntlet by laying a white stone down. Facing Shindo's fury, he would answer with his cool, collected demeanor that impressed his opponents—or strongly annoyed them. Inside though, his blood was boiling too, for reasons very alien to the mere game challenge. Of course, he would be extra careful: this was no hapless insei performing those vicious approaches. Nevertheless, by no means he would let his rival prove his point... Which proved to be the most unnerving: as they were playing, it was pretty clear that idiot was probably right: correctly used, Oka's ko threat was severely restraining Akira's expansion, and Shindo used it very efficiently. By the end of the game, the bleached boy was only one moku and a half short from his opponent.

"So now?" he snarled after the final territories were established.

"So I win again," Akira retorted. "Your disciple already had his advantage lost by the time he created the ko."

"Some nerve you have, Touya!" Hikaru bellowed, outraged. "Have you seen me resign like Oka? Tell me, _who_ was sente the whole game? _Who_ was leading the whole game? Just thank darn ol' komi for saving your ass!"

"Oh now, you're going to complain about the komi rule? Six points are too unfair?" Akira sniggered.

"You know that's not the point! Oka's move was _not_ naive, you _know_ it, and I want you to say it _RIGHT NOW_!" Hikaru hammered.

"Hikaru, what's happening?" his mother asked worryingly through the door.

"Nothing, Mom! Can't you let us have a row in peace?"

"Hikaru, be polite!" she insisted, sticking her head inside. "And there's no reason you should pick a fight with Touya-kun, especially for his first coming."

Hikaru rolled his eyes, preparing himself for a painstaking explanation of what should be obvious and well-known of everybody:

"Mom, we _always_ fight, _every time, everywhere_... Here it's a first, I'll give you that."

"This is no reason either, and... HIKARU!" she suddenly shrieked, pointing to a small tray with a couple of glasses, the ones her son had shared with Oka. "Don't tell me you haven't even offered Touya-kun any drink?"

"Oops..." Hikaru muttered. On this confession, Mitsuko exploded:

"Now we've had it! You have _no sense_ of the least hospitality at all! You've been playing for more than an hour and it never occurred to you your guest must die with thirst in this heat? This is unacceptable, Hikaru, I tell you, this time, I'm really ashamed! When I think..."

As Hikaru was ducking under the storm, Akira looked away, slightly amused and extremely embarrassed for his rival at the same time.

"All right, all right, I go fetch some drinks, sorry!" Hikaru eventually shouted.

"You apologize to your friend, not to me, Hikaru!" She turned to Akira. "I'm so sorry, Touya-kun, you must think poorly of our reception..."

"No, it's really nothing, Shindo-san!" Akira assured. "Don't blame him, we were both too engrossed by our game to think of it."

"You're really too kind, Touya-kun," she told him with a tender smile. Then, to her son: "I want you in the kitchen in a minute, young man!" and she left.

Akira dared not look at Hikaru, but Hikaru was goggling at him:

"What have you done to her?"

"What?"

"Mom's always moaning after me about anything, but it's been such a long time since she last read me the riot act like this! Just because of you? What did you tell her?"

Akira let a smile hover on his lips.

"Just the truth..."

"That is?"

"Hikaru!" Mitsuko roared from downstairs.

The bleached boy sighed and reached for the tray.

"What d'you drink? We've got ice tea, diet coke, mango juice... ramune... canned coffee, too... and sake, but you must wait till the dead of night for me to swipe the bottle."

"Ice tea will do, thanks."

Hikaru stood up and took the tray downstairs. Akira breathed. Since they were back on joking terms, maybe this afternoon was not to be totally ruined after all...

Being left alone for the second time, he looked around curiously. Shindo's room was smaller than his, with more furniture by far, yet you could sit and move around without feeling too cramped. Light and air freely circulated through two wide windows, one next to the bed, the other one above the stereo, VCR, TV set and... was ita_ fridge?_ The 3-dan was pretty well equipped to say the least, if you didn't count the notable absence of personal computer. His desk, dressers and other storage units were surprisingly all clean and tidy; Akira rightly suspected the Mom factor.

Between the door and the bed stood a bookcase filled from bottom to top. Akira slid towards it to have a closer look, but Hikaru was already back with clean glasses and a couple of cans.

"Mom's making Hiyashi chuka and kabayaki tonight... and coffee jello for dessert. OK for you?"

"Ah, erm... Thanks for the invitation, but I wouldn't like to-"

Hikaru cast him an annoyed look.

"What? You've planned something else?"

"N-no..."

"So you're dining with us. Just cut out the ceremony, it's no big deal! Mom won't let you leave with an empty belly anyway. She's just worrying that you may not like what she's cooking."

"Having tasted it twice, I think your mother needn't worry, I totally trust her on this," Akira smiled.

Hikaru nodded thoughtfully.

"So that's what you told her... Well played, Touya," he muttered.

"It wasn't _played_, I told her exactly what I think of her cooking. You should know me by now, Shindo," Akira said. He himself should have known his friend by the time:

"You're honest with my mother, all right. How come you're not with my disciple?"

It came like a slap in Akira's face. Despite the heat, the atmosphere felt again like a couple of degrees lower.

"Look," Hikaru continued coolly, "I can understand you had a bad day, that somebody walked on your feet in the train or whatever. I can even admit you don't like Oka, though I can't imagine why; you two should get along rather well... Anyway, when it comes to Go and anybody but me's involved, no matter how harsh you sound, I take it you're always honest. Only this time, you were not, and don't try to deny it! Why, Touya?"

He looked almost sad when asking this. Of course Akira would never ever confess the pitiful truth: _ I'm jealous and I refuse to share my best friend_. Actually, his brain was running in half denial mode, so this truth was not even clearly thought. Yet the fact remained that Shindo obviously felt upset, and unlike Akira, had every good reason to be.

"You're really concerned about your disciple, aren't you?"

If there was bitterness in Akira's mind, it did not surface in the question.

"Yes I am," Hikaru asserted. "It's a huge responsibility... but I've agreed to take it, and I won't let Oka down."

That said, he pushed an ice tea can and a glass toward Akira, then helped himself. Akira thanked him with a nod, but despite his thirst, he didn't open his drink. In his head, two selves were fighting: a passionate Akira who resented Oka as an intruder interfering in their growing friendship, versus a reasonable one who knew such a friendship could _never_ be exclusive with someone like Shindo. Most of the time, Akira valued reason over passion, so he was determined to resolve their present conflict as smoothly as possible.

"His play... It looks a bit like yours."

Even this simple fact Akira would hardly acknowledge, but it lightened Hikaru's face:

"You noticed?"

"Yes... Problem is, I'm not sure he can sustain it, with his current level."

Hikaru shook his head:

"The problem is not _you_'re not sure, Touya. This is_ his_ problem: _he's_ not sure himself he can. Yet he's a good player, and a very good learner. What he needs first is self-confidence, hardening. That's why I put him against you, so he exactly knows what he's worth."

Hikaru took several gulps from his glass. Akira was just opening his can.

"You'll probably hate me for bringing this discussion back but... are you really sure you're doing the right thing? "

Hikaru put down his glass on the tray with a short clatter.

"No, I'm not," he said moodily. "I can't be sure of anything, but I'm doing my best. That's the least I can do for him."

"Is he aware of that?" Akira asked, expecting a negative answer.

"Yes, he is. I told him, just yesterday. Guess what? He still trusts me, maybe more than ever. How can I give up now? I don't want to, anyway. Not after..."

Hikaru trailed off, and nervously reached for his glass.

"Not after what?"

"Nothing... I could be wrong," Hikaru moaned, unwilling to speak.

"Wrong about him?"

Hikaru took a deep breath and a quick decision:

"I've got... expectations of him. If he lives up to them, he'll be great. _Really_ great. If not... at least, he'll make a decent pro. That's all I'll say for now," he concluded, and you could be sure he would not drift into further revelations. The line had been drawn, but possessive Akira could not refrain from peering over it:

"You like him?"

Hikaru shrugged, his cheeks going a light pink.

"He's a good kid," he said in a clearly affected offhandedness. "Shy, but very funny, and interesting."

Akira raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't look too shy to me."

"Oh, he really is, but shy guys tend to open out when I'm around," Hikaru said, smiling intently at him. "Call it my magic touch..."

"Whatever..." Akira snorted, though with a slight blush too.

"Indeed. When Oka first asked me to become his master, he was all fretting, staring at my knees, stuttering every two words." Hikaru chuckled at the memory. "He was really funny to tease... still is, but now he's much more playful. He doesn't fear to talk back and tell what he really thinks. Like, of the two of us, you're the best Go player, but I'm the coolest one."

"Is that so?" Akira said with a twitch on the corner of his lips.

"According to him, yeah," Hikaru laughed. "Just before you came in here, he even asked me if I had a tattoo somewhere, and what kind I'd like to wear."

"So, have you a tattoo?"

Akira was openly smiling this time.

"Nope, I already have my bleached hair, it's good enough! Nase keeps saying it's way out of fashion, but I'm too used to it. Though if I had to choose a tattoo..." Hikaru considered.

"A big number 5 on the shoulder, maybe?"

Hikaru picked a stone and tossed it right at the mocking Akira. Far from being offended, the 5-dan felt suddenly lighter. In terms of friendship, that was a sign he was not lagging behind Shindo's pupil. If Akira hadn't be so upset earlier, he would have remembered Hikaru had already blessed him in the same way on several occasions before. Thus his jealousy proved less and less defensible. He allowed himself a good half of his drink to celebrate.

"Why not tattooing one of my shirts, you mean?" Hikaru growled.

"Thought you'd like something _Go_ related..."

"Oh please, this pun is funny to wear once in a while, but every second of my life? Though I like the Go idea..." Hikaru mused. "The kanji for 'Igo' maybe? It wouldn't impress Kaga too much... No, it should be something original!"

"A pair of stones?" Akira suggested without much conviction.

"Hmm..." Hikaru made, consequently unconvinced.

Akira snapped his fingers:

"I know. The kifu of a famous game: _that_ would be original."

"A _kifu_?" Hikaru exclaimed. "Are you insane? It'd take days and days, I'd sure die! No way!"

"All right, if you're such a needle wimp..."

"Hey, you realize we're talking about a _whole game record_ to inject under _my_ skin, don't you? Oh boy, it'd have to be one helluva kifu for me to stand the torture! Like our moonlight game... but a thousand times better! Like the _Kami no itte_, no less!"

"Ah, you'd willingly do it for the Kami no itte?"

"For the divine move, sure I'll tattoo the whole kifu on my back... but only if you do the same on yours!"

"Me?"

"Of course, Touya, I'm not gonna play the divine move alone!"

Akira could poke fun at Hikaru's "magic touch", but that last line effectively blasted every doubt, jealousy or resent bogging his mind, leaving him speechless.

"So, you'd do it?"

"I-yes I would," Akira eventually stammered, his brow, cheeks and ears an interesting color.

"And we'd do it together so we actually see who's the needle wimp!"

Hikaru already had his own established theory on the question. Akira made no attempt to debate on it, he just hoped his rival had not measured the weirdly erotic charge of his silly challenge. He himself should not even think about it, so he was examining the bookcase with a suddenly renewed interest. Not for its content—bunk stacks of comic books—but the piece of furniture conveniently stood where Akira's field of vision would not presently cover its owner.

Said owner only noticed where his friend's stare had fallen on.

"Impressive, eh?" he said quite smugly.

"That must be the word..." Akira muttered. Years of allowance spoiled on a fair hundred volumes of inane stories!

"Go on, just ask for it," Hikaru whispered in his ear, making him recoil nervously.

"Ask for what?"

"Here! Make your choice! I bet anything you've never read a manga in your life."

"I don't feel like I've missed anything..." sniggered Akira, who hardly stood Hikaru's patronizing manners. "Big-mouthed, spiky-haired 'heroes', always stuffing themselves when they're not scuttling after big mighty shiny artifacts, really!"

"Sorry Touya, I was wrong," Hikaru chuckled. "To say that, you must have read one at least! How come?"

Akira shrugged.

"There were always those distant relatives who used to drop by once every two years, bringing a little present for the 'normal' child they thought I was..." he said, very deadpan. "Of course, we never tried to set them straight."

"Haha, I guess the poor comics touched the bottom of the trash bin the second your guests left?" Hikaru chortled.

"No. Hopefully and thanks to Mother, they have made kids in hospital happier, if not brighter..."

"Fine! But won't you give it a new try? I cleaned the kiddy stuff off my shelves long ago. Even you should find something to please you."

Akira sighed, resigned that Shindo would not let him go without one of his stupid comic books. He idly scanned the multicolored spines, totally lost among the various and extravagant titles. Out of desperation, he picked a volume at random.

"_Ragun-_"

He wasn't allowed to read the whole title, because a suddenly flushed Hikaru snatched the book from his hands and quickly slid it back on its shelf.

"Ha! Er... Not that one... It's j-just too...uh-stupid," he stammered.

Akira had had the graphic novel under his eyes for only a couple of seconds, just long enough to notice how graphic it was.

"Nice breasts..." he muttered for himself. His flummoxed rival pretended he had not heard and hurriedly made Akira's choice himself:

"You want something more... erm... _Jedi Goki_, like this," Hikaru said, lending him a regular _shounen_.

"You mean _Jidaigeki_..."

"Yeah, whatever. This should appeal to you, samurai and stuff..."

"From the title, I reckon it's more about _rounin_ than _samurai_," Akira observed, with a doubtful glance at the red-haired swordsman on the cover.

"Oh, cut it out and just take the darn book!" Hikaru groaned. "You may even take the five first volumes, so you won't call me in the middle of the night to beg me for the following ones."

"You seem pretty confident I take interest in this, Shindo..."

"Because it's a classic, and a good one. Why don't you trust me for once?" Hikaru replied, annoyed. "I wish there was a manga about Go, but I've still to find one, sorry."

"A manga about Go? Could it be?"

"Why not? There are manga about almost anything..." Hikaru shrugged.

Akira stroked his chin.

"It's just I can't figure Spiky-Haired Hero sitting seiza for a hundred pages, playing games..."

"Sipping tea..."

"Studying kifu..."

They both burst out into a loud guffaw that let them fully release their previous tensions.

"That'd be the most boring manga _ever_!" Hikaru declared, wiping tears of merriment at the corners of his eyes.

"Followed by an anime series, maybe?" Akira suggested, nearly crying too.

"Yeah, of course! With a lot of _action_!"

"Action? Like what?"

"Like this!" Hikaru grabbed a stone between his fingers and raised it high above his head. "_Iiiiken-jimariiii!_" he shouted, before slamming it on the board.

"Haha, lacks the wind in your hair and the lightning effects on the goban!"

"So, Touya, you've already seen anime series too!"

Akira gulped to take his breath after laughing for so long.

"Hard to avoid bits of them when half the city is covered with screens... Seriously, the day someone brings out an intelligent manga about Go, I'll call that person a genius."

"One day, maybe..." Hikaru muttered dreamily. "Yunno, it doesn't have to be packed with action. I can see a hero just learning about the game... after meeting a very special master..."

"Hmm?"

Hikaru promptly realized he was sailing by perilous shores.

"Aw, forget it. Try those ones already, and tell me—_honestly_—if you enjoy."

"All right," Akira said. "In return, may I suggest you other readings than manga or Go books?"

"What makes you think I only read that?" Hikaru pouted.

"That's all I can see in this bookcase."

"Then you need glasses, Touya."

Akira stood up to look closer at the upper shelf, and indeed there were a very few other books squeezing up on the side like misfits: a world atlas for children, a kanji dictionary, an illustrated history of football, and...

"_Genji Monogatari_..." Akira read out. "Let me guess: someone gave you this one, thinking you'd enjoy reading the life of _Prince Hikaru_?"

Hikaru rolled his eyes. _Someone made me _buy_ this one. And yes, he used that trick to convince me._

"That's right, more or less," he said. "I'll be honest with you, I've never fully read it. If it wasn't for the nice poetry, it'd be unreadable."

"Glad to know you appreciate poetry."

Hikaru squinted at Akira, who sounded like the patronizing one this time.

"_Come join me in regrets for the passing of spring  
And wisteria now aglow in the evening light._"

The lines were delivered with perfect intonation, rhythm and intensity. As Akira was gaping at him in amazement, he added: "_Wisteria Leaves_, thirty-third chapter." _His favorite._

Akira slowly sat back.

"I had no idea you're so fluent in ancient Japanese, Shindo. And didn't you tell me you had no memory for lines?"

"In a play, that's not the same thing!" _And I never had Tsutsui reading the same lines over and over in my head!_

"What a shame..." Akira sighed. "You can and you should study something beside Go, Shindo."

Hikaru vehemently shook his head.

"Touya, one of the best days of my life was middle school graduation, when I knew for certain I'd never set foot in a school ever again... as a student, I mean. Go to high school or university if you like, but don't expect me to follow you there."

"You don't need to attend a school. Ever heard about distance learning? You can choose the lectures that appeal most to you, you study by yourself, your occasional homework you send to-"

"Aaargh!" Hikaru wailed, grimacing. "You said it! _Homework_. See this desk? The last time I sat there is long forgotten. Don't make me remember, Touya."

Obviously, they were standing on either edge of a deep cultural rift. Not long ago, Akira would have stigmatized Hikaru's laziness in derogatory terms, sparkling the usual quarrel. He didn't even try this time. We was done with needless rows marring their blooming friendship. Actually, he was slowly turning his back to fifteen years of filial obedience and self-righteousness, to progressively embrace Hikaru's live-and-let-live way of thinking. However, considering his friend's obvious potential, Shindo's behavior strongly disappointed him, and somehow Hikaru noticed it.

"What would you make me study, to begin with?" he muttered, softening his stance.

"I'll never _make_ you study anything, Shindo, but if you want suggestions, a foreign language may be useful in your career. Why don't you try Korean for example... so you can answer Hong-kun's mail without my help?"

"Ah! By the way..."

Hikaru stretched for a postcard stuck to the fridge with a magnet and gave it to Akira.

"Su-Yong sent me that one after my message, remember?"

"After _our_ message, yes..."

"Haha, yeah... It's written half Japanese and half Korean again. Can you translate...?" Hikaru asked meekly.

Akira rolled his eyes, looked at the scribbled message for a moment, then chuckled.

"What, what?" Hikaru pressed.

"You really want me...?"

"Yeah, go ahead!"

"All right... '_Dear _Touya-san_. You didn't sign the Korean part of Shindo's card_,_ but I'm sure I've already heard those... honorable words... in your mouth, and certainly not Shindo's. Thanks for the... courtesy and tell this..._'Hmm, I don't know this expression but he must mean 'lazy person' (Hikaru huffed). '_Tell him I forgive him if he agrees to come here again. He's welcome... and I'll beat him for sure. You're welcome too._'"

Akira looked up.

"Very kind of him, don't you think?"

"Touya, you've just made this up, haven't you?"

"Not at all. See? This is my name here, that he correctly wrote with the title, and yours is written there."

"Talk about an evidence," Hikaru dismissed.

"If you don't believe me... you know what to do," Akira retorted equally.

Hikaru grabbed the postcard and stuck it back on the fridge.

"I'll think about it," he growled. Even that non-binding promise he was not sure to keep.

"At least, you know his invitation is no invention, since he wrote it in Japanese too. Aren't you tempted by another trip to Korea?"

"I'd love to go," Hikaru moaned, scratching the nape of his neck, "but I need to spare money for this. It's not the Hokuto Cup anymore, with every seat, room and cocktail offered. And unlike Su-Yong, I don't have a good uncle overseas to put me up."

"If I've read correctly, your good friend Su-Yong himself will be delighted to receive you. You'd insult him by booking a room somewhere else."

"I'm not sure Su-Yong and I are so good friends..." Hikaru tempered. "Sure, we're in better terms than four years ago. He's an OK guy now, but still so proud and touchy! If I'm to spend several days at his place, I need you to prevent all the clashes I'm bound to spark."

"Great..." Akira muttered, not too thrilled by the prospect of acting as a buffer between former foes. On the positive side, it was unlikely the young Korean pro would make a serious contender for the biggest share in Shindo's friendship.

From Hong Su-Yong, the conversation came around to past and future international Go events. Hikaru wondered if the Go game would ever appear among the Olympic ones, that were currently taking place in Greece. Akira was skeptical, even for Beijing 2008, though side events were still possible, he said.

"Hikaru!" Mitsuko called from downstairs. "Dinner's ready soon. If you two have finished, you can just come down."

"OK!" Hikaru yelled back.

Akira was about to stand up, but Hikaru first moved toward the bookcase on his knees and collected the five volumes of manga he lent to him.

"I'll put them in a plastic bag so it's easier for you to take away."

"Thank you, Shindo..." Akira sighed. Any plan of leaving the books "forgotten" was not even to consider.

"You're welcome. Oh, remember this one?" Hikaru winked, picking a small book from an upper shelf.

Akira looked at the cover Hikaru was showing him: _Tsumego, a selection by __Touya Meijin_. He smiled:

"One of his best-sellers. Did it help you?"

"Yeah... in many ways," Hikaru replied modestly.

"You'd like Father to sign it? I can ask him when he's back home."

"Hehe, why not? I'd sure like it better than Kurata-sensei's autograph!" Hikaru laughed. "D'you think your father could write me a kind little note with it?"

"Sure. Something like: _If you still need this, you're nothing close to beat my son,_" Akira sniggered. He was hit right away on the top of the head with the book, but Hikaru was grinning doing so.

"I _will_ beat you, Touya. It's just a question of time."

"Take yours, I'm waiting."

The rivalry was clearly present in their words and eyes, as always. However, nothing of the former antagonism did remain. Just the challenge between friends competing to show their best to each other. Hikaru nibbled at his lip, staring for a while at his rival and friend.

"What?"

"Nothing..." Hikaru mumbled with an awkward smile. "I just thought... it's kinda... strange to see you here. All those years I could just imagine you sitting at this goban to face me... Eventually it's happened..."

What could Akira answer to that? Luckily, Hikaru's bout of nostalgia was over soon:

"OK, let's go!"

In the kitchen, Mitsuko was putting the finishing touches to her meal.

"Hikaru, the table's clean, can you set it, please? Go wash your hands first, and you can show the bathroom to Touya-kun at the same time."

"We go, we go," Hikaru cheerfully chanted, making his mother turn to him in surprise.

"By the way, your father called," she added later as her clean-handed son was coming back. "He has a late meeting so he won't dine with us tonight."

"Uh-uh."

The news was received like a complete non-event, and Hikaru just dragged his feet toward the cupboard to take the plates out.

They had a very merry dinner. Hikaru's mother was especially happy because unlike her son, Akira obligingly answered every question she had about their Go life. Consequently, Hikaru felt the need to bring his own views on the matter. Within a couple of hours, he had fed his mother with more personal stories than she ever dared expect to hear from him in three years. After the meal, Akira stood up and congratulated the lady of the house for her definitely exquisite cooking. Mitsuko blushed and bowed a lot in return, while Hikaru was miming a languorous violinist behind Akira's back. The 5-dan also insisted to help Hikaru do the washing-up, despite Mitsuko's embarrassed protest.

"It's not a problem, Shindo-san, I'm used to it."

"He's right, Mom! I've never seen a man wash a glass like he does!"

Akira lightly prodded Hikaru's nose with the dish brush, leaving a small amount of lather on the tip of it. Hikaru retaliated by brushing Akira on the same place with the dish towel. Mitsuko had no desire to chide him: both boys were laughing loud, the young Touya no less than her son, and there he was, irresistible.

When they were done—after a long series of digs and disputes over the best way to wash and dry things—Akira and Hikaru's mother engaged in yet another exchange of bows and courtesies :

"I must leave now. Thank you again for everything, Shindo-san."

"You're welcome, Touya-kun. Feel free to stay longer if you like, it'll be a pleasure for us."

"I'd love to, Shindo-san, but I don't want to disturb you by staying so late."

"No, no, Touya-kun, I assure you-"

Hikaru's patience ran out very fast in such conditions:

"Mom, he's got to go because he must prepare for an important game on Saturday. Honinbo league. See? We talked about it and you were not listening."

"I was listening, but how am I to remember everything you say, Hikaru?"

Her son sighed and made for the genkan.

"I come with you to the station," he said to Akira. Strangely, he wasn't opposed any polite refusal.

"Come back anytime, Touya-kun!" Mitsuko added warmly.

"I'll certainly do, Shindo-san," Akira answered with a genuine smile.

"You have years of manga series to catch up on, after all," Hikaru sniggered.

"That won't be my _first_ motive, Shindo."

Theirs shoes on and Akira's last goodbyes to Hikaru's mother said, they went out right into the dusk of the street. Akira was usually walking in a fast pace, always hurrying himself from point A to point B, with close to zero interest for anything happening in between. This time, he was restraining himself to fall into step with his friend, and inwardly cursed point B (the station) for being already so close, though they had quite a bit of walk left to reach it.

"So, how d'you feel this game against Serizawa-sensei?"

"I feel it like the previous ones," Akira shrugged. "Heavy calculation from beginning to end. Until now, he's been better at this."

Hikaru smiled.

"After our last studies, your brain should have expanded its abilities."

"That, or it'll end up all disturbed. We've done pretty silly things, when I think about it."

"Haha, yeah! You won't hold it against me if you lose though?"

"If I lose, I give you back all those manga books right away, unread."

"I don't see the connection, but so be it. So if you win, you promise me to read them all?" Hikaru winked. "Oh, I shouldn't tell you that, you would lose on purpose just not to read them."

"Idiot," Akira replied, lightly knocking the bag of books against his friend's hip.

They laughed, then remained silent. Akira felt like he had a million things to tell Shindo, but just walking by his side in the warmth of the evening was pleasant enough. In this moment, he also vividly realized how lonely his life had been before those very last weeks.

_Friendship's like a drug_, he would think later on. _You don't feel like you need it until you've tasted it. Then, you wonder how you ever managed to live without it, and you get strongly and irreversibly addicted. _

He dared not imagine the withdrawal effects of such a drug. There lied his vulnerability, he realized, compared to Shindo who had many friends and could likely afford to lose one or two without heavy emotional damages. As the ugly specter of treason loomed on the back of his mind, he wondered again if Shindo's friendly attitude was part of a plan to get him all trusting and gullible, in order to wreck him at the right time.

He was totally off the mark. For a start, he would have been very surprised to learn that his rival never had any friends sleeping over in his room. Hikaru was certainly far more outgoing than Akira, but almost as selfish, and just like him, had long considered others for their practical value. Akari, the annoying yet convenient sidekick he needed to liven up his child whims, had been the perfect example.

Truly, it had taken Hikaru a long time to rightly measure the value of a friend. In fact, not until he paid twice its dear price: first with Mitani, whose hostility after what the red-head boy considered a personal treason had distressed Hikaru more than he would admit. Then of course, with the most intimate friend any mortal could ever hope... Hikaru had long thought he would never recover from the awful loss, until his friend Isumi came to lend him the hand of salvation. After that, Hikaru would never take friendship so lightly, as he proved to Akira:

"Touya..." he voiced awkwardly as they were nearing the station entrance.

"Uh?"

"I'm glad you came today, it was great. I'm sorry we had this fight over Oka. I should have told you before..."

He _did_ sound sorry, and so Akira felt:

"Never mind. Actually..." _Be brave, Akira, and just say it._ "It's my fault. Please tell your disciple I'm sorry about today... and that I wish him the best for the pro exam."

All that was reeled off quite mechanically, but Hikaru didn't question Akira's sincerity, only considering the gesture, and what it cost his friend. On this night, Akira learnt how clapping the lid on his pride at proper times led to great rewards, like Shindo warmly gripping his shoulder with a simple but meaningful "Yeah, sure!".

* * *

"Is Touya-kun safely on his way home?" Mitsuko asked, raising her nose from a smoking cup of tea as her son, back from the station, was shutting the front door.

"Last time I checked, he was boarding the train, with no stalker or potential abductor in sight. He keeps papers with his name and address in his pockets, so yeah, I guess he's quite safe."

"Hikaru..." she moaned, though she had to smile at the absurdity of her own question. "He's such a nice young man! Is he the same boy you said used to look down on you?"

"Yep, that's him all right," Hikaru confirmed as he was rummaging in the fridge for a soft drink.

"I find it hard to believe," Mitsuko said, leaning her chin on her hand. "He's so polite, and he was speaking so highly of you..."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, talking about you as the future pride of our country... Oh no, I promised..." She flapped her hand back and forth. "Let's just say he had nothing but praises for you."

Hikaru took a thoughtful gulp, then shrugged:

"Like you said, it's just politeness to please you. I know exactly what he thinks about me."

"Don't say that, Hikaru, he looked really sincere when-"

"Good night, Mom."

Hikaru was already climbing the stairs in a perfect I-don't-give-a-damn way. Only on the last but one step, way out of his mother's sight, did he clutch the top of the landing post and jumped straight over the banister. He smoothly landed next to his door, the half-emptied can in his free hand miraculously unspilt.

"_Yosh!_" he whispered in excitement. Then, he could not help it: he victoriously threw his arm up in the air, getting an instant fizzy shower.

* * *

_(to be continued)_

**NOTES:**

_Ramune_: a carbonated soft drink, sold in typical bottles sealed by a glass marble. You often see anime characters drink those in summertime/beach episodes.

_Hiyashi chuka_: noodle salad, eaten cold, served with various toppings and dressing.

_Kabayaki_: a dish of freshwater eels (_unagi_), filleted and steamed or grilled, often served on a bed of rice.

_Jidaigeki_: "period drama", a genre of stories taking place in feudal times of Japan (generally the Edo era).

_Rounin_: _samurai_ and _rounin_ are both warriors (_bushi_), but as the samurai has a lord to serve, the rounin has lost his. Forty-seven of the latter kind managed to become famous in the Edo period. I let you guess what manga series Hikaru has lent Akira (don't even ask for further clues about the "graphic" novel!).

_Ikken-jimari_: a _jimari/shimari_ (enclosure) is a pair of stones defending a corner. Ikken-jimari are specifically played on points 3-5/5-4. Not that it's very useful in this chapter!

_Genji Monogatari_: "The Tale of Genji" is a famous classic in Japanese (and world) literature. Supposedly written by Murasaki Shikibu, a noble woman from the Heian era, it is considered by many specialists as "the first novel" (with controversy). It tells the life and deeds of Prince Hikaru Genji, especially on the romantic side. The plot is rather hard to follow, as the numerous characters are referred to only by their function or their relationship with the protagonist, which of course change along the story. Recent translations tend to tweak the original text and insert proper names instead.

--

Ahem. So it's six months _again_. What or who are we going to blame this time? Some deathly hallows, a depressing summer, or just my lazy bum?

Meanwhile, you people come in numbers to read this fic, review it sometimes and keep a watch on it with a kind story/even kinder author alert! Thank you so much, beloved readers, I hope this extra-long chapter of sweet (though always SATIN!) AkiHika friendship makes up a bit for the appalling delay. Sorry, I totally put Fuku and his birth charts aside, but next chapter will have him back, and should make the plot significantly progress again!

Valérien


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